Hall of Infinite Doors

You stop by Meagan after lunch and tell her you'd love to go with her to the ballet. She beams and relates the story of how she won the tickets on the radio. Blah blah blah. Great seats. Blah blah blah. She reminds you that it is a black tie affair. You tell her that your only suit is black. She scowls. You leave.

Then you stop by Rosallie.

"Hey Rosie!"

"Well if it isn't Charlie," she beams. "How are we doing today?"

"Pretty well now that I've seen my favorite receptionist," you reply. "Tell me, what does a fine girl like you do AFTER work?"

She grins. "Are you trying to ask me out, Charlie?"

"Maybe."

"Well," she replies, becoming serious, "if you could score a pair of tickets to the Russian Ballet Troupe this weekend, I would do ANYTHING for you." Her emphasis on the word "anything" makes your cue stick tingle.

"You see," she continues, "it's Boris Yedinski's farewell tour, and you know what THAT means. I've asked everyone, and no one has them."

You really don't know what that means, but you do know what anything implies. You realize you have the opportunity of a lifetime.