A good 20 years ago, when I was a lowly public servant working for the department of health, I found myself in an awesome job. I was working in the records / mail area, and got to be a departmental courier driver. We had several offices that kinda fell under our department, their mail would come to the central area, we'd sort it, hop in a department car and deliver it to them. Was brilliant - hop in a car you didn't own, and spend a couple of hours driving around town dropping off mail.
Part of it was delivering ministerials to Parliament House though, to the offices of the ministers we had at the time (Michael Wooldridge, Bronny Bishop, and another I can't remember). Was incredible how lax security was back then - we had a shared pass, x-ray of the bag, and we were in. I'd stroll past the PM's office daily.
I didn't ever dress up for work - hell, I was driving around all day delivering mail, and when I wasn't doing that I was back in the office sorting mail. So it was jeans, t-shirt (possibly of a metal band), sneakers type of stuff.
So one day I'm heading down a hall in Parliament House, and Alexander Downer and a group of people are heading the other way. He looked at me like I was a lump of shit on the bottom of his (likely expensive) shoes. I'm still surprised he didn't call security. It was the highlight of that job, knowing I'd ruffled the feathers of that shit stain of a man.
TL
R - I made Alexander Downer frown and hopefully made him feel slightly uncomfortable.