Turned away :-(

Today was not a very good day. I spent over two hours on the subway to my beat -- well, an hour and a half on the subway, then another half hour waiting for a bus, getting on the bus, getting lost, getting unlost, and finally reaching my destination, all a total of over two hours -- only to be sent back.

I am working on a story about the controversy surrounding rent increases in one of the largest housing co-operatives in the US, which happens to be in my beat. So I decided to take advantage of the fact that the board's meeting was timed perfectly to meet my Wednesday deadline and attend.

I walked confidently into the meeting room at the Rochdale Village Community Centre, sending up a silent thank you that the meeting hadn't started yet, even though I was, as usual, late. I settled into a seat close to the back of the room, from where I could observe the proceedings without drawing too much attention to myself. I had just settled down, and gone up to say hello to one of the board members whom I've spoken with earlier when the head security guard approached me. "Will you please step outside, miss?" he asked me, politely, but so firmly that I dismissed the inclination to respond "No, thank you. I'm fine where I am."

Rolling my eyes at the inconvenience, I followed him outside. He informed me that the meeting was only for residents of the co-op, and as I wasn't one, I had to leave. "What?" I said. "I've travelled two hours to come here, and I'm not going back. I wasn't told that I couldn't come."

"It's a private meeting, only for co-op residents, miss," he insisted.

"I called so many people and none of them told me that I had to be a resident to attend," I told him.

He wouldn't budge. I tried the anger tactic, closely followed by the "it's-all-your-fault" tactic, but nothing worked.

"I'm not just sitting around, doing nothing, you know. You people need to do a better job of letting people know if you're not going to let us in," I told him in the most righteously indignant tone I could muster. It didn't work, although he became a bit more sympathetic.

"I know, I'm sorry, I have a son in college in Connecticut," he said, though how he thought that would be of any help to me, I'm not sure.

He asked me if I knew how to get out, and I shook my head, stubbornly refusing to talk to him, now that all else had failed. He called another guard, and asked him to escort me to the bus stand. "I'm sorry," he said, in parting.

I glared at him, and walked away in stubborn silence with the other guard. It was drizzling, and the guard, trying to be kind, asked me if I had an umbrella. "Yes, but I don't want to use it," I retorted, and continued walking, though I did thaw a bit and tell him what had happened. He was duly sympathetic, but it was clearly not in his hands.

The bus came, predictably late; I missed the train as I was walking down the steps, and again predictably, had to wait for the next one. I did try to salvage my evening by calling a woman whom I met while waiting for the bus on Saturday, when I went to speak with the residents of the co-op. We had started chatting, and she mentioned that she was a friend of the chairman of the board. She had offered to get me in touch with him, so, on my way back, I called her and whinged about how they wouldn't let me into the meeting, and asked her if she had his contact details. She gave me his email address.

So, if he gets back to me, it might not, after all have been a complete waste. Though, I could have called her from home, and had that game of squash that I said no to because of the meeting. Such is the life of a journalism student whom no one takes seriously . . .sigh!!