A Child Of Atom

Imagine a room nearly 300 feet wide, and over 600 feet long, with a 90 foot ceiling. Two 747's can park in this space nose to nose. Other than pipes on the walls and the occasional coil of fire hose the room is utterly empty. The company I work for has been charged with taking this room, and turning it into the staging area for a certain... let's say "international dignitary" that is visiting New York next week. Easy, right? You'd think so, except we have to answer to four governments, two at a national level, one state, one city, three different governmental bodies, four different police and military bodies, and a host of personalities that serve under the dignitary. And while a giant empty room might seem like the ideal canvas on which to paint, this room really does have NOTHING. Places to hang lights from, stages, chairs, curtains, these thinsg we'd anticipate bringing in. But bathrooms, drinking water, food to feed the crews, even electricity... we gotta bring all that too. Now take this giant room and put it 500 yards behind the walls of one of the most secure areas in New York City. Getting all that stuff in and out of there is pretty damned difficult. I enjoy my job, and some of the stories I'm building out of this assignment are going to make for great bar fodder for years, but I sure do hate going out to this particular aspect of it. And if my suspicions prove true, and I end up having to actually ATTEND this event... my ability to be circumspect and not directly talk about this may be compromised, that's all I'll say.