As I left the Washington Hilton at appoximately 7:15 p.m. ET Saturday night — with the unmistakable cry of protesters echoing behind me — I was struck by one thought as I made my way down 19th street through a cold, clammy drizzle.

Man… that security was awful.

Now, some key context here, before I get into my account from inside the Hilton: I’ve never been to White House Correspondents’ Dinner weekend. This was my first. I was not attending the dinner itself, to be clear, but I was dropping by several of the network pre-parties. So I come at this with the perspective of an outsider — not a regular on the Beltway party circuit. I have no idea about how these things generally go.

And so as a WHCD rookie, I was extremely curious about the logistics. I was certain I was going to face endless security lines before I went inside. Metal detectors, patdowns, you name it. After all, President Donald Trump was going to be in that room. No way they were going to take any chances at an event like this — particularly not after the scares he faced in Butler, PA, and South Florida.

And on the periphery, the security protocol certainly checked many of the boxes. Traffic was closed off for blocks around the Hilton. There were helicopters overhead. Attendees got stopped twice by security before they were allowed inside the perimeter, and ultimately the building. It all seemed secure, if you didn’t scrutinize it too closely.

But here’s the thing: Getting past that security was comically easy. All you had to do was show — not even a ticket to the dinner, or even any of the pre-parties — but just some sort of evidence that you had business inside the Hilton on Saturday night.

In my case, it was a photo of the invitation to the Fox News pre-party. There was no QR code or anything. It was an image that would’ve taken someone with even a passing knowledge of Photoshop about 10 minutes to cobble together. Both gatekeepers I encountered took one quick glance at the photo I produced and were satisfied. They let me pass without issue.

From there, I stood in a line to get inside — where I was certain I was going to have to empty my pockets and remove jewelry. Nope. Nothing. There was a line for those who wanted to walk the red carpet. But those of us who didn’t want the paparazzi to capture our mugs just went straight through, and down an escalator one flight — where we went to our chosen network pre-party.

After about 90 minutes inside the Fox and ABC bashes, I decided to high-tail it out of there. Only, I couldn’t. Getting out of that building was way harder than getting in. I received incorrect information from no less than six different members of the security detail. Go up the escalator and take a left. No, go back the way you came. No, go down the hall, take a right and go down the ramp. Every time it seemed like I was getting close, I was told to stop, turn around and go in some other direction.

I expected to have to take the Magellan route to get out of there. What I didn’t expect was all the conflicting information. Security personnel seemed not to know what to do. With that many people in the building, you’d think “How do I leave?” wouldn’t be as difficult of a question as it ended up being.

Finally, I got out of there. But on that frigid, dreary walk — as I escaped the perimeter in search of more Uber-friendly pastures — I just could not get over how lax that security was. I was certain that it was totally insufficient for such a massive event.

Seventy-five minutes later, I learned that I was right.

——

Joe DePaolo is the Editor in Chief of Mediaite.

This is an opinion piece. The views expressed in this article are those of just the author.

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