“I’ll go get someone.”

The guard disappeared and I realized I had a moment of opportunity. I could give in to the voice in my head that says, “Run awaaaaaaaaaaay.”

I didn’t want to be conspicuous. Conspicuousness in this context could only be embarrassing. I was the guy who says, “I’m on the list.” Desperation defined me.

Herr Gatemeister returned.

“Look, you don’t have to get anybody. If I’m not on the list and you don’t feel you can let me in, I’m happy to…”

De Blasio strolled out, all tall and handsome. Oh, why did it have to be him?

“Somebody said they’re a friend of mine??”

“I didn’t say that, I…”

De Blasio squinted.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Andrew Lederer, I…”

“Oh, yeah. The guy with the video.”

“Yes, but I’m now a…”

“You can come in.”

Hah! It hadn’t been too embarrassing. I followed the mayor-elect as the crowd sounds and yuppie pulsations grew stronger.

“Andrew, you didn’t have to be nasty to my associate.”

“I wasn’t nasty, I was sar…”

Mister Mayor(-elect) was gone.

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