Special Entry

I was a VIP yesterday. Truly. No use denying it. It felt fine to be a part of a small clientele that come-and-go as they please, and come-and-go in such a respectable fashion. In fact, if I were to do nothing else than come-and-go easily and without any hitches, I think I would be a fully contented human being. It has always been enticing for me to have a special door, entrance/exit of of my own, not even a room of my own, just a door, or a flap, like one of those nifty cat/dog doors, where pets can to-and-fro to their hearts content (apparently, according to a rudimentary Google search, there are "ultra-high" performance pet doors. Who knew? How about a high-performing human door?)

Here, you might wonder, how is it possible for someone like me, who has been looking for a permanent job for such a long time, to have access to a high-performing flap that allows for easy gliding to-and-fro-ing? Well, yesterday, I was a "Very Important Passenger." Yes, you heard me. A VIP that glided through the "Special Entry" turnstile in the subway. All this about a hifalutin elitist flap, and I come up with the pedestrian "Special Entry." Well, it might sound pathetic or paltry to you, but it meant a lot to me; even if I purposely misconstrued the meaning and usage of "Special Entry." I figure this: if I pay my way on that God-forsaken subway, I might as well feel regal using the anointed "S.E." I could tell that fellow passengers thought I was quite odd in the way that I passed through the turn-stile, actually waltzed/sailed/zipped/cruised/sallied through. "Sallied?" what a great word, probably a word bandied about in the fabulous conversations between Audrey Hepburn's Holly Golightly, and George Peppard's Paul Varjak in "Breakfast At Tiffany's." But aside from that aside, I have learned over the last two years, that I have to treasure these small funny things that make me feel better, no matter how small, petty, and non-sensical they might be. After all, if I don't honor the illogical, I will inherit the "mean reds" like Holly, and that wouldn't be too pretty, now would it darling? It would be tres terrible, and why should anyone begrudge me my fun? If they do, quel rat!