I'm wandering around in the city, and I find myself outside Tiffany's high-rise apartment building. I think I should stop in for a visit, but I'm not sure I remember her apartment number.

As I'm mulling over this, a crowd of people shows up, also apparently to visit her. I don't want to go in with this group, as I suspect I'll hardly be noticed. Annette is in the group, and I ask her if she remembers Tiffany's apartment number. It has lots of sixes and sevens in it, rhyming with the street number. 67 SW 7th? No, we think there was another number in there, maybe a 4.

So Annette and I go in ahead of the group. Just inside the outer door is a security desk, and beside it a door with an electronic lock. But there's nobody at the desk.

Annette goes quickly behind the desk and starts rummaging around in the papers and computer to find the apartment number and entrance code. It makes me nervous that she's back there, and even more so when she starts scribbling notes on a carbon-backed "triplicate" form that looks like somebody's receipt or something. I start to tell her that she should get out from there and stop doing that, when suddenly a large security card comes through the secure door and into the area behind the desk. Annette is just coming out, and they almost bump each other, squeezing through the entryway. I think we're busted. But the guard doesn't seem to mind at all.