Entranced

I am on my way to the first scheduled media interview associated with having written Putting the Tarot to Work.

I arrive at the public radio station a bit early, park near the entrance due to the rain, and walk toward the door. (This business is complicated a bit due to my broken toe.) I reach the entryway without getting too wet … only to find a sign plastered to the glass: “This entrance is for staff only. The public must enter through the northeast entrance. You are currently at the southwest veranda entrance.”

I sigh a deep sigh and start making my way around the building. (This business is complicated by the fact that the building isn’t square, making it difficult, on a cloudy day, to know when I’ve reached “northeast.”) With my sweater and hair growing more moist by the minute, I finally locate a pair of large smoked glass doors. They’re locked.

“This entrance is for staff only. The public must enter through the northeast entrance. You are currently at the west courtyard entrance.”

Still thinking my task is possible, I slog my way through the soggy grass, up a steep set of slick concrete steps, and around another series of blind corners. I find a third set of doors: also locked, also bearing a sign. “This entrance is for staff only. The public must enter through the northeast entrance. You are currently at the east patio entrance.”

Finally, I go to a building next door and stop a woman with a cart full of Cokes. “Is there actually any way into the Public Broadcasting building?”

She nods. “People ask us that all the time.” She points out an entrance all but hidden at the top of a wheelchair ramp. “That’s the only one you can get in without a badge.”

All I can say is: good thing I was early.