DENVER - "Do you think they hate us?" the reporter a couple seats over asked me, as he searched for an electrical outlet in vain.

"I don't know," I responded, explaining that the electrical boxes are painted the exact same black as the flimsy wooden flooring, making them virtually invisible.

Navigating the Pepsi Center in the midst of one of the biggest political events of the year is daunting for anyone. But for journalists, struggling with equipment, access and deadlines, it can be downright scary.

Don't get me wrong - the organization at this convention is good, even impressive. But anytime you have 15,000 hassled, harried members of the media descend on one place, it's bound to get a bit hectic.

Because of the need to organize all these people, a strange sort of caste system has developed within the boundaries of the Pepsi Center. It's based entirely on one's credentials, the paper ticket hanging around everyone's neck. This paper designates exactly who that person is, and where they can go.

I, for example, have a credential reading "Hall," with "Press" underneath. I've seen other press passes labeled "Arena" or "Perimeter," or that most coveted of credentials, "Floor."

It may just be my imagination, but when people wearing those "Floor" passes stroll by, jealous looks seem to follow.

Apparently, this system has created some scofflaws. On Tuesday afternoon, I chatted with Sheila, one of the multitudes of guards stationed around the arena to make sure everyone is approved for entry. She told me she'd seen people trading credentials to get a peek inside.

The credential's color also shows exactly where you can go, a rule I bumped into this afternoon after climbing down the arena bleachers.

"You're purple," the security staffer said, with an apologetic smile. "Not allowed on the floor."

Still, I'm inside the arena, which is saying something. On my arrival to the convention grounds Monday morning, I made a beeline for the Pepsi Center (excited about the prospect of air conditioning). But once inside the stadium, I was at a loss. There are multiple TV and radio setups throughout the hallways. Cables dangle in clusters thicker than a man's arm along the walls and from the ceilings. Makeshift green rooms for shows like "The News Hour with Jim Lehrer" are made out of cubicle walls outside the studios (formerly skyboxes).

But I couldn't find any accommodations for the writing press. So I went out to the media pavilions, large white tents set up in the parking lot.

The pavilions reminded me a bit of 7 Mile Fair - not in terms of items being sold (I didn't see any hubcaps or DVDs around), but because of the maze-like construction within, where curtains separated rooms for media organizations.

The quality of the rooms differed dramatically - a certain wire press organization had what could only be described as a sumptuous appointment, with carpeting, arm chairs and flatscreen computers.

The undesignated press area, where I headed, was a little less glamorous. It consisted simply of folding chairs and folding tables with power strips and Ethernet cords, on plywood flooring.

So you can imagine my delight when, on a second trip to the Pepsi Center, I found the one sign that allowed my purple credentials inside the arena. I've got a seat to the left of the podium, several rows behind the South Dakota delegation.

I may not be able to get on the floor, but at least I can see all the action. And I wouldn't trade that for anything.

The Journal Times is offering comprehensive coverage of the Democratic and Republican national conventions. Coverage will include analysis from the Associated Press and local staff. We'll also bring you personal experiences of Journal Times reporter to capture some of the flavor and excitement of the conventions.