Activism 101

We have a little groundwater problem in our town. Simply put, we have too much, and it has nowhere to go. So my PTA (that's the Parent-Teacher Association) and I arranged a little Advocacy Nite at school, and we wrote all of the local politicians to ask for help.
Then, I hand-delivered the dozens of letters all over the County.
Last in line was the County Executive, whose office is in a well-secured County Office Building. I approached the guard booth, handed over my driver's license, and announced that I was a representative of our elementary school PTA, and that I wished to drop off some letters to the County Executive.
The two guys in the guard booth hardly blinked. The one with my license in his hand was madly scribbling some information onto a piece of paper. Then, without looking up, he addressed me: "Are they expecting you?"
I dipped my head forward, and stuck my nose through the hole in the Plexiglass that separated us. Then, I spoke:
"Honey," I told him, "no one expects the PTA."
He peered up at me, and burst out laughing. He scribbled a small hot-pink Visitor pass, and handed it through the hole.
"You go right on up."
That's right, people: don't mess with Mom!