Brenda Kowalski sat behind the tall oak counter with an aluminum clipboard resting on her knees.

A paper plate with two cold bagel halves sat next to her stapler.

I laid my blue plastic folder flat on the wooden ledge and slid two white paper guest passes across to her.

“I’m turning in my spare credentials for tomorrow,” I said.

Brenda tucked a strand of short dark hair behind her ear and picked up her yellow pen.

“You had four seats reserved in the front row of Section A,” she said, scanning her master printout.