Life Lessons Can Help You Sneek Into a Crowded Conference

by Derneval Cunha

A few years ago, I used to write articles about many subjects including IT security.

And a number of times, people would email me: "Teach me security teach me hacking teach me how to exploit weakness."

That is a tough job.  Almost always, teaching the "exploit weakness" is a waste of time.  I try to point them to the Moon and they look at the finger.  And sure, there are times one achieves something by looking inside himself - not by books or teachers.  Few things teach better than our life experience.

If you understand that life can teach you things to improvise, solutions are not hard.

This story happened sometime around April 2007 at the University of São Paulo in Brazil.

Facebook was not as popular as Orkut, which was a hit in Brazil.

And Orkut's creator (Orkut Büyükkökten) started making speeches around South America.  I had heard he would be at the Faculty of Economics, Administration, and Accounting at the University of São Paulo - a huge presentation.

The organizers figured that there would be thousands of people in line to see him talking - too much of a crowd to fit in a single 400-person room.  Just like with rock shows, they distributed free tickets the size of a paper stamp to put everyone in several auditoriums.  There was a such a big crowd you'd think it was a Nirvana rock concert.  Huge line.

To see him in-person, one had to be one of the first 400 - or else be part of the staff.

The ticket for in-person access was on a pink-colored piece of paper with the faculty's logo laser printed on it.

I knew this even though I hadn't shown up early enough to get one.  How?  Perhaps I should add that this institution enjoyed such a reputation that they thought of themselves as the cream of the top students.  They believed they would run the nation after they graduated.  The elite.  And a group of them walked past the end of the line.

Just for fun, they showed us "losers" their tickets.

I got to talk to one of them who let me see the ticket a little bit closer.

One hour later, I got my ticket after waiting on line.  It was the same slip of paper, but a different color.  That one entitled me to a place with a huge presentation screen.  From my point of view, it wasn't very different than watching the recorded video later.

The slips of paper could be copied, I guessed.  Both pieces of paper were ordinary laser prints.  But it would be tough to find both the pink paper and hardware to improvise something similar in such a short time - less than an hour.

I had done some freelance language teaching jobs in the past.  And I had learned some time ago that you don't need to know a whole new foreign language in order to ask for a beer.

If you are thirsty anywhere in the world, all you have to know is the word for "water."  Or Coca-Cola.  Say that and forget you don't know grammar, pronunciation, etc.

So picture yourself at the entrance of this big long line with all these people coming in.  After a time, everyone with a pink piece of paper would be understood to be in possession of a legit pink ticket to the conference.

If one was a waiter or waitress and sort of understood foreign people saying Coca-Cola, he or she would know what to do even if the customer pronounced it terribly.

So I could possibly use a not-so-good copy and still make it.

I just had to go somewhere to find a similar piece of pink-colored paper.

Walking around the place, it didn't take long before I saw printed paper on a board talking about how one could go to study in Australia.  Same pink color and lots of blank spaces to rip off and use.  My piece of paper was white and there was no way I could draw a similar logo on that pink slip of paper I got.  No scanner, no laser printer.  But it did not have to be a perfect match.

I could draw something with a pen.  Maybe the guy at the entrance wouldn't check it - or so I thought.

Just like in a bar, if the waiter thinks "cuuuicacuula" means "Coca-Cola," that would be good enough.  The point was getting the guy in a trance-like state when he automatically lets anybody with a pink piece of paper get in - like the Charlie Chaplin character going crazy in that factory in Modern Times.  A blurred drawing should be enough.

It was smart.  But Murphy's law kicked in.

I got to the entrance too early.

No lines.  I happened to be the first.  The very first and the guy saw me coming.

There was no going back.

Sure, the guy was waiting for my ticket and probably would not be a fool.  I had to distract him somehow.  I pretty much knew I could get in, but played stupid and asked if it was O.K. getting in.  That bought me a few seconds and I could feel the guy becoming anxious.

Luckily, somebody else came in a moment later and gave his legit pink piece of paper with the logo printed.  It was checked.  Quickly, I gave mine just after that guy.  The man just let us both in.  He did not check mine.

A few more people were getting close coming in.  A minute later and the man would no longer be able to abandon the entrance to fish me out of there.  I went straight to the far end of the 400-chair auditorium just in case and started to act like I lost something between the chairs.  Just paranoid.  People began to crowd the place.

Feeling safe at last, I went near the front row of chairs.  I was so thrilled and bold that day.  I ended up being one of the people who got to ask Orkut something (stupid - it was edited out of the video) and later got a selfie with him (they said they would send the picture but never did - maybe because of a "V" sign I did with my hand).

The prize was high.  Orkut Büyükkökten was like Zuckerberg in those days.  Everybody and his sisters and dog had an Orkut account.

It's not that I'm all proud of sneaking in.

After the presentation started, there were a few vacant places where some folks didn't make it in time.

When the presentation was going on, I felt a little bit guilty that I was there and a thousand others were not.  But I ended up not telling anyone or bragging about it.  Maybe it would spread around and sneaking plays no good part in a job interview.

The good lessons to be learned are that situations can be reversed sometimes; people who make fun of us should be the object of attention, not of hate; and, by all means, treasure the little bit of knowledge you already have for it might be useful later.