I had a very brief experience as 'lounge dragon' and 'Million dollar door bouncer' back in my days in Heathrow Customer Services and it was an insight in how low so-called grown ups can sink.
I saw all kinds of subterfuges, ranging from the inventive to the utterly miserable, to gain entrance to a lounge. I heard sob stories of breakups and accidents that, somehow, could only be rectified by gaining entry to the lounge and sipping a glass of average champagne. I've had women trying to flirt with me, including one who parked her rather prominent, erm, front bumpers on my desk as if a peep could justify her sauntering in Galleries North, the palace of stale croissants and people on conference calls. Then there were those - and they were legion - who paraded the AA 'Gold' card as something akin to Tolkien's Rings of Power, thus giving them the right to a seat in Galleries B and the first born of any lounge attendant (while, it's worth noting, that card is just a oneworld Ruby). There were those who pretended to be coming in looking for the loo, or so engrossed in a call that they couldn't stop, or the 'I've just gotten out, I'm coming back in' crowd, or those who tried to hide behind a queue of people. Finally there were those who insulted me, said that me and my colleagues were harlots (or words to that extent), effin' bureaucrats, wished us to die and so on.
The pinnacle of this pyramid of human misery happened at the 'million dollar door'. I remember a man - a grown man from someplace, USA, with the backpack adorned by the logo of some software company - going so ballistic at me for not being allowed through the Concorde room door that the security team nearby stopped doing what they were doing and stood by in case he went for it. The abuse was torrential, and the second worst of my life, though over time it got a bit repetitive. Apparently, having to go downstairs and up again (sure an inconvenience) was the pits and, to quote George Bush Sr, an aggression that would not stand. Then he saw the little podium with the 4 faces that you can use to send feedback about something, remember that? You know, the one with the smiley green face, the so-and-so greenish one, the 'meh' amber and the frowny red? Well, he saw that and he pounded that thing. I mean, he properly slammed his meaty feast on the red button while his puffy face went crimson and he screamed "NOT HAPPY" at the top of his lungs. The sad thing was that the little faces were there to provide feedback on the security queue and not me.