The guy that stepped into the elevator with me at the 529 14th St (National Press Building) was a bit surprised that I had pressed number 13 leading to the top floor.

I played it cool.

There was suppose to be a book launch going on but it seems that I had arrived early. I took a lap then discovered the National Press Club serving up an array of muffins, bagels, pastries, fresh squeezed orange juice and coffee. I grabbed some fruit and a bagel and took a seat by the window. Some stuffy old men with permenant hunches sat in leather chairs over polished wood tables and talked of visits to London and John McCain. I pulled my phone out, took a view blurry photos for keepsake and spent the next 15 minutes sipping on a cup of joe and eating away....for free. To my left was a polished down bar of dark mahogany wood. Four televisions played away to an indifferent crowd. In the very back there was what looked like a smoking lounge. Large sitting chairs with small tables decorated the dark decor.

Upon finishing my meal, I grabbed a placemat before exiting just to prove my presence has graced for the first(but hardly the last) time at the National Press Club.

"They're getting younger every day George..." was the last thing I heard before heading down the steps into the elevator.