> The woman from human resources opened the doors — those big heavy fire doors with the push bars. She led the way through an unlighted, windowless room, draped in plastic, smelling of paint. Cristina Balan grew nervous. “This doesn’t look like the way to Elon’s office,” she thought to herself. She was led, she said, through another door into a room where she saw two large men in security uniforms behind desks. They were ordered to wait outside.
"Sorry about the smell; forget what you saw on Dexter, sheet plastic doesn't always work, and sometimes we have to repaint, haha."
I wonder whether the theatrics was at all for intimidation, or just an accident of the combination of legitimate physical security policy, and of wanting a meeting room where other employees wouldn't see the commotion (which happened to be new office space being prepared).