The Lanyard Effect

A few years back I was visiting my brother, Tyler, and his family in Okinawa, Japan.  He works for the US government and was stationed in Hawaii-like Okinawa, so of course I gotta visit.  It was an absolute blast.  Beaches?  Check.  Sushi?  Check.  Diving with whale sharks?  Yep.  Vending machines on every block? Of course.

Shark selfie.

During some down-time, I was bragging to him about sneaking into a fancy event at an A's game back in Oakland.  All I did was confidently walk past security while they were helping someone else.  It was too easy and it had a huge reward; all-you-can-eat fancy food/drinks.  And it was all FREE.  It didn't matter that I had just eaten dinner.  I ate like 3 plates.  First pitch was about to be thrown and these fancy people started making their way to the elevators.

"Well...I gotta see where this takes me."

So I grabbed as much food/drink that I could carry and followed them onto the elevators.  While on the 20 second elevator ride I made friends with a guy by talking about the great baseball weather.  I got off on his floor and immediately someone is there checking for tickets.  We're first in line.  Uh oh.  He checks the ticket of my weather friend and then turns to me.

Security: "Ticket please."

I lifted up my hands to show they're full of free food and drink and can't reach in my pockets.  I then nodded toward my new friend and said, "I'm with him."

I didn't ask him if I could join him in his suite before then.  We literally spoke 2 sentences to each other 5 seconds ago.  I just said those words aloud without knowing how he'd react.  Luckily our friendship was strong enough where he responded,  "Yeah, he's with me."

Security: "Come on through."

So I enjoyed the game from a suite.  And later I got my friends up there too.  Not a bad con, huh Tyler?

Tyler: "It's the lanyard effect."

"Huh?  Lanyard effect?  What do you mean by that?"

Tyler: "All you need in life is a lanyard and confidence.  With those two things, you can do whatever you want.  Sometimes you only need one of them."

He tells me a story about one of his co-workers.  This guy was halfway through a flight from the US to Japan when he realized he didn't bring his passport (not sure how he got on the flight in the first place - might have been a military flight).  What a disaster!  He would have to get on another flight back to the US, get his passport, and then fly back to Japan.  That's like 3 wasted days and 1,000s of dollars!

He didn't have a passport, but he did have a lanyard!  Plus he had an official-looking work ID that he could fit in it.  So when the plane landed, he stuck his ID in the lanyard and got off the plane.  Upon arriving at customs, the agent asked for his passport, but he confidently ignored the request and showed his lanyard.

Customs agent: "Huh?"

Now I don't know the exact conversation, but he explained to the customs agent that he's a US government employee stationed at Okinawa and he didn't need a passport to enter (not true).  This agent probably sees many American defense guys entering the country each week - maybe even daily.  He definitely knows that can't be true, right?

Co-worker: "Look at my lanyard!  See?!  Can I get through now?"

They went back and forth for a bit, but his co-worker never once wavered in his confidence that he could enter without a passport.  Eventually the agent agreed with him and let him in.

Tyler: "See?  Lanyard + Confidence = Authority.  You belong no matter what."

And it's so true.  When you're wearing a lanyard, you're showing that you have some authority.  People's guard is down when they see you're wearing a lanyard.  Add that yeah-I'm-wearing-a-lanyard-try-and-stop-me confidence, and boom, you're probably allowed wherever you're trying to go.

Pause in the story to appreciate a couple slabs that looks like things.  Since Okinawa is a military base, here are a couple apropos slabs.  The first is brought to you by Joey P. in the office; we've mostly worked on different floors so I don't know him very well, but I think we're similar people.  He has contributed to both my slab collection and my office celebrity look-alike collection.

The second is cheating a little bit.  It's actually a floor plan that I saw at a hotel here in Seattle and instantly got jealous of the engineer who designed it.  I didn't design it, nor did anyone I know, but it looks like a thing!

Now back to the lanyard effect!  Tyler told me that story several years ago, and I loved it.  Fast forward to last week.  My co-worker Mike is from Philadelphia, and since the Phillies were in town, he organized a fun night at the baseball game.  Remember my thoughts on GDPAF?  I'm in.

Up on the big screen, they show, "Safeco Field welcomes country music star, Trace Adkins!"  Then they show Trace Adkins in his suite and he waves to the crowd and everyone cheers.  I cheer.  Now I'm not a huge Trace Adkins fan or anything.  I actually don't know any of his songs, nor do I know what he looks like.  But after living a lifetime by introducing myself as Trace, many, many people follow with, "Oh.  Like Trace Adkins?"

"Yeah, like Trace Adkins."

Those people are generally good people, so I project that Trace Adkins must be an okay guy as well. Whether he knows it or not, he's a big part of my life.  I tried to tell him this a few years back.  I think Trace's gotta stick together, ya know?

As you can see, he didn't respond to my attempt.  Don't feel bad.  I didn't expect him to.  But now he's at Safeco.  And I'M at Safeco!  How many times in my life am I going to be in the same building as Trace Adkins?  I gotta meet him!  I brush up on my Trace Adkins trivia with my co-workers - I study his picture, listen to half of Honky Tonk Badonkadonk, and they tell me he was on Celebrity Apprentice - I'm good to go.

"See ya guys.  I'm going to meet Trace Adkins."

I go up to one of the suite level entrances and I see an older gentleman checking tickets.  As I approach I can see this guy must be living his dream retired life; working at the Mariner's home games watching some baseball and helping people to their seats.  I decide I'm gonna go the honesty route.  I'm just going to lay it out there to this guy, and of course he'll let me in.  So I explain to him that my name's Trace, and Trace Adkins' name is Trace, and how rare that is, and how Trace and I should talk about it.

Happy retired guy: "That's nice.  But I can't let you in.  No way.  Imagine if we let everyone in who has the same name as whatever celebrity is visiting.  They'd be harassed nonstop.  Go back to your seat."

Well I can't argue with that.  Objectively he's just right, even I can see that.  But then I remember...Lanyard Effect.

So I regroup.  No lanyard, but confidence will have to suffice.  I can't try that same security guard.  He'll remember me.  I scout out another entrance and I see who I can only assume to be retired guy's sweet retired wife checking tickets.  I've done this before in Oakland.  I can sneak into a baseball suite.  So I wait while she's busy helping someone and I walk confidently past her, as if I just momentarily stepped out to use the restroom.  I pass her, but she sees me, and about 3 steps later she calls out for me.

Retired wife: "Sir?  Excuse me, sir?  Can I see your ticket please?"

Blast.  I've been caught, but I'm committed - act like it's not a big deal.  I return and I tower over her,

"Oh I don't have a ticket.  I'm in Trace's suite.  Can you direct me to Trace's suite?"

Retired wife: "Oh.....I don't know about that.  Let me get my manager.  Oh perfect, here she comes right now."  The manager comes over to us, Big Gulp in hand.

"My name's Trace (I show her my driver's license to prove it - closest thing to a lanyard I've got) and I'm heading to Trace Adkins' suite.  Can you direct me where to go?"

Manager: "No I can't."

Defeat.

Manager: "But we can go to the concierge and they can tell us where to go."

"That would be great, thanks."  We walk over to the concierge - another sweet retired lady.

Manager: "Can you tell me which suite Trace....Ecks is in."

I realize she doesn't know who Trace Adkins is.  She might very well think that I'm Trace Adkins. Showing my license paid off.

Concierge:  "Huh?  Do you mean our....vocalist for the evening?"  She stretched out the word vocalist in a way that only fangirls do.

I chime in before the manager and concierge can discuss who Trace Adkins is.  "Yes. That's the one."

Concierge: "Suite 61."

We start walking over to suite 61.  We're passing other, meaner looking security guards on our way over, but no matter, I'm a VIP being escorted to my suite.  As we pass suite 56 I speak up,

"Thank you so much for your help.  I can take it from here."

Manager:  "Oh that's okay.  I'll take you to the suite.  It's part of the security process, you know?  Imagine if we let just anyone come in here."

I chuckle to myself a little bit at the irony.

Manager: "Here we are.  Suite 61."

She starts knocking on the door, and now I start panicking.  How on earth did I get here?  I can't believe this worked! Trace Adkins is 20 feet on the other side of this door...what am I going to say?!  Play it cool.  Play it cool.

The security guard manning the door approached us.  Damn.  This guy is a real security guard.  He could crush me in a second.  He towers over me,

Door guard: "Are you expected?  I wasn't told of any guest visits."

I meekly respond, "No, he's not expecting me.  I'm just coming by to say hi.  That's all.  My name's Trace and I wanted to meet him."

As we're talking we have to make room for a server with a cart full of free food to pass by.  The guard opens the door for him.  I can see Trace's party!  He's right there!  I wanted to shout out right then, "Trace! I'd like to meet you!"  But I didn't; I was too scared.  The door closes behind the server.

Door guard: "If he's not expecting you, you can't come in the suite.  Please leave."

The manager finally catches up to reality, and turns against me.

Manager:  "You have to leave.  I'll escort you out."

We start walking toward the exit.  Defeat.  But so close.  If only I had a lanyard!!