“I don’t want to know.”

[This happened in the early 1970s, in the government’s Executive Office Building (“Old EOB”) in Washington. – TK]

I was escorted to a large room that was about as high as it was square. There was no name on the door, no room number.

My escort nodded, and I walked in.

As I entered, a saw a desk and two chairs. The video camera in the ceiling was hidden in the acoustic tiles well enough that I didn’t spot it for a few minutes. It was pointed straight at the man behind the desk.

The man I was meeting explained what he needed our company to do and I said, yes we could do that. After some idle talk, I ventured to ask him about the spycam in the ceiling. Is that for you? I asked, half-humorously.

“Caught it, eh? I didn’t spot it myself, right away. Don’t think so,” he said, answering my question. “Wasn’t for me – at least originally; it was up there when I got the job.”

“Whose office was this before?”

“I didn’t ask. I don’t want to know.”

goodbye-cruel-world

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