The Grolier Club is a private club in NYC- Members Only.


Recently, Grolier opened it’s doors to the public for a wonderful exhibit on Sherlock Holmes. Of course I went…

So I see the exhibit (221 artifacts about Sherlock, even though I think there were only 219, but whatever) After I looked at the exhibit I needed to go to the bathroom.


Bathroom through a door and downstairs,


I go down the stairs- Go down a narrow hallway, not particularly well lit, and very very empty.


Finally find the bathroom.


Exit into the slightly creepy hallway. Find the stairs.


Go up the steps.

Turn the doorknob.

Locked Door.

Not fine.

Did I ever tell you I once got locked in an airplane bathroom and I now have a total fear of locked doors and claustrophobia andpanicsetsinifIamfacedwithalockeddoor?





I’m starting to sweat. Two seconds into this escapade and all rational and semi rational thought has escaped my brain. I start imagining that instead of being a club dedicated to celebrating the art and history of the book since 1884, they have some nefarious goings on. Perhaps the Sherlock Holmes exhibit is an excuse to gather all amateur sleuths and bookworms into one place, and enact their own Holmesian mystery. Maybe Moriarty is really in charge.

OMG I’m locked in the Grolier Club and I can’t get out!


What would Miss Marple do?

What would Miss Marple do?

She would probably calm herself. OK- she wouldn’t have freaked out to begin with, but I can regroup…

I shake it off. (Imagine me shaking my head and arms and doing a little jump step)

I try the door again.

No luck.

Deep breath.

I decide to venture back down into the hallway of death, which I am now convinced I once saw in “The Shining”, even though it LOOKS NOTHING LIKE THE HALLWAY IN THE SHINING. No tricycles. No twins. No creepy woodwork or wallpaper.

But in my mind I am about to go down into the valley of death.

I turn around…

Guess what I see…

Another door…

And I turn the doorknob…

…open the door…

to find myself back in the lobby of the Grolier Club…

My first thought is- “Really- they couldn’t mark that other door NO ENTRY?”

Then I grabbed my coat from the coatroom and sprinted through the lobby and out the front door.

50 thoughts on “The Two Doors

  1. I got locked in a basement of an old apt. building in Forest Hills. So dark and no way out until I finally found the old creaky elevator bringing me to the first floor meeting immediately my old landlady, Ms. Schaffer collecting her mail. Must be a NY things. Only time I ever got locked up with no way out unless you count the elevator in an old NY building. Oh yeah…

    Liked by 4 people

  2. I’m clearly a very bad person because I laughed. Not at you, I thought you were inviting us to laugh with you. I mean, yes, I felt the tension, but I also felt you rolling your eyes at yourself by the end. If I mis-read, I’m sorry for chortling.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Easy solution – ring your daughter, tell her to ring the Grolier Club and explain their is a batty old woman locked in the basement . . .

    After that, the real mystery begins, when they can’t find you . . .

    Liked by 1 person

  4. And did you need to find the bathroom again afterwards. Oooh your imagination sounds like mine. Crazy how we can get ourselves worked up! Glad that you were able to get out and your imagination didn’t come true. I blame mine on watching too much Dateline and Forensic Evidence. LOL!


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