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Joshua Foer

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Posted Thursday, Aug. 17, 2000, at 9:00 PM ET

Today I managed to score a red podium-level security credential, which gives the highest level of access within the Staples Center and allows those carrying it to go right up onto the stage, even when someone is speaking (my old olive-colored hall-level security credential wasn't even supposed to allow me into the delegate seating areas). I had been asked to help escort the Rock and Chyna, two WWF wrestlers, from the Staples Center's southwestern VIP entrance down to where they needed to be on the event level. This trip meant passing through the backstage area behind the podium, which is why I needed the highest-level credential.

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Now, I'm a 5-foot-8 17-year-old who can barely do 15 push-ups without feeling queasy; it would seem fair to wonder what I would be doing serving as a security escort for two gigantically ripped pro wrestlers. The reason, I'm told, is that the Rock was mobbed by fans and admirers when he showed up at the Republican Convention to deliver his get-out-and-vote message. My assignment was to help clear a path through the swarms of wrestlemaniac delegates, press, and volunteers—though I found it hard to believe that there could possibly be that many.

Perhaps someone shared my concerns, because as it turns out, I was relieved of my duty just before the Rock and Chyna arrived. I was told that they brought their own entourage of guards to do my job. Probably for the better, I imagine. But, even though I didn't get to meet the wrestlers, I did end up with a podium pass I kept for the rest of the day.

Around 4 p.m. Pacific Time, the Staples Center really starts hopping, and that's when I went down to the floor to take my post as a security guard at the aisle between the Florida and Michigan delegations, directly to the left of the podium. While working the floor, my job was to keep the always-crowded aisles clear enough so that people could move through.

This was a tough job—much more so than I had anticipated. For the most part, people on the floor—delegates, press, special guests—are used to being treated as the most important folks around. Many didn't take well to my requests that they "Please help us keep the aisles clear," or to my telling them, "You can't stand here in the middle of the aisle. I'm going to have to ask you to move." Often their response to me was a nod of acknowledgement without moving an inch. Then, when I would ask a second time, some would get angry at my persistence.

At my post between Florida and Michigan, I would receive periodic updates through my earpiece on the happenings across the floor. I even knew—through word-of-mouth among security staff—that Gore would be making a surprise appearance. At one point, a report came in that Jerry Springer was on the floor without a credential. Thirty seconds later a second report: He had put the credential in his back pocket to do an interview. All was well.

By the time Joe Lieberman reached the podium to give his speech, my aisle was half filled with standing spectators. The usher working my area and I did manage to keep enough of the aisle clear so that people could pass through if they needed to—a major accomplishment as all of the other aisles I could see from my vantage point were completely congested.

Still, despite our relative success, one of Florida's five delegation whips started tongue-lashing me. "It's your job to keep this aisle clear," she insisted. Her delegation had been in their seats since 1 p.m. and she was not about to let the aisle in front of her fill up with standing onlookers. I told her that, practically speaking, there was nothing I could do. There was no other place to move the people in front of her delegation. Little did she know that Florida had it better than most other states sitting near floor aisles. "Florida is the most important state in this election," she told me at least three or four times. "We need the press to be able to get to us." Only a couple minutes later, she was all smiles again, pretending not to notice as a network cameraman crouched down in front of her, zooming in on her face to get a delegate's reaction to the Lieberman speech.

But, from other security volunteers I've talked to, I had it relatively easy. A spunky, politically minded South Carolina college student who was doing credential-checking at a main concourse corridor told me that HUD Secretary Andrew Cuomo was doing a sort of impromptu press conference right in front of a corridor, blocking its entrance. When the security volunteer asked him to please move, the secretary asked him if he knew who he was. The volunteer said, "No. Do you know who I am? I'm in security and you're going to have to move." Zing!