This was quite some years ago, I wonder how much has changed: As an employee of a private company, I was asked to do some work at one of the major data faciliti

This was quite some years ago, I wonder how much has changed: As an employee of a private company, I was asked to do some work at one of the major data facilities of the Danish state. The place was - and still is - a huge, sprawling mass of concrete, steel and glass, and was internally partitioned into four concentric zones of supposedly escalating security, all fancy with locked doors and card readers. I was expected to present myself at the front desk in the reception area, but somehow, with my equipment on a trolley, and sort of looking for directions, I slipped in behind someone back at a delivery bay. And then just followed signs and color codes and various people through various doorways. In no time at all my trolley and I were at our destination: The holiest of holies, the central tape archive room (yes, it's that many years ago). Got to work for probably about half an hour, not another soul in sight, but in the end was interrupted by the chief of security himself, bursting in with the grimmest of looks and the strangest of colors on his face. Now, this fellow knew me, so no alarm sounded, but I was urgently desired to shut the fuck up and follow him out to reception, where I was registered, issued my proper guest card and authorization, and solemnly escorted back to the archive vault, deepest security, zone four.