I'm a bit of a prick

We walked around some more and passed a woman security guard in a locked room looking at us like a strange cat might watch another. We dumped off the hardware, then went back to her office to sign in. She made us wear visitor stickers. We returned to the rest of the hardware, marvelled at it and how it represents one of our products, and started back to sign out. The woman was about 5-foot-seven and 190 pounds of muscle. She looks like a bouncer at Sisters. She was humourless and severe. I, on the other hand, was drunk from lack of sleep and laughing at everything.

Seamus and I were there for a sum total of three minutes. During this time she made us sign in, wear stickers, sign out, criticize us for not putting down the right time (Angus' watch was fast by a few minutes), and only speak to us in atrocious English, even though two of us were speaking perfectly good French to her.

When we were finished, I shut her door after thanking her and saying goodbye. She said nothing, and seemed to want us gone. Maybe she had a long day. Maybe it's her job to be really serious all the time. I don't know, but I locked her door, walked out, walked into another hall, then walked about 25 feet down this hall and said to Seamus in my best Québécois accent, "Hé, Francine is a bit of a 'ardass, hein?"

Not even a half-second passed before I heard a door open, loud footsteps and another door open. I looked back to see "Francine" looking daggers at me. "T'es comique, toé?" I was quaking with fear. Seriously, I was. I was in a strange labyrinth of security 50 feet underground with an angry security guard that seemed to want to wear my balls as earrings. Seamus is 6-foot-2 and 240 pounds, and HE was scared. But what did I say?

"Euh...ouais."

If she had come after us, there was nothing we could have done. The elevator was right there, but it takes a minute to switch floors. I would have had to fight her or something. Imagine that implacable giant rolling stone f. rom Indiana Jones, and there's nowhere to go.

Luckily, she fucked off. Seamus and I were looking around eagerly wanting to get the fuck out of there as fast as possible. I felt like an ass, but I was too scared to react appropriately. Like with an apology. For all I know, I could have been the last deciding factor in her voting yes in the next referendum. Maudits anglais.

I'll remember to be very nice to the security dykes next time lest they not be so nice to be in the event of a slight, perceived or real.

*-Can I just say that I am sick of the dev guys always being too busy to move their own shit? Why is it always the sales guys? Why is everyone else's time more important than ours? Fucking dev pricks. I am in a bad mood.