Dig New York, dig that Flat Iron building … I dreamed my way through a locked door just north of Madison Square Gardens, some moons ago.
Long story – I was locked out of an office protected by a combination lock where my luggage was helpfully being stowed by a recent but well meaning ‘friend’. Impending plane departure prontos – the usual craziness – and a dilemma with respect to ‘attachments’ otherwise known as ‘baggage’ presented itself.
So I embraced Zen principles of non-resistance, refused to acknowledge the illusion of obstacle, closed my eyes, inspired, expired – and – intuited the combination, retrieved my attachments and descended the elevator (lift).
Sensing I may have pushed the hospitality of all that is further than the grace quotient apportioned to me permitted, I elected to embrace civic compliance rather than risk an unsuccessful j-walk in full view of the NYPD squad car I espied directly straddling my intended path – right across Madison Square Gardens.
I minded my own business and looked vaguely at the Sky before getting sirened for my trouble. The officers gallantly ushered me across the road … so ofcourse I complied.
It is time to get going. OK?