I was driving out of D.C. on New York Avenue and Gretel was beside me in the passenger seat, staring wistfully out the window.
“How do you get to Love?” she asked ” How do you get to Love?”
I was ill-prepared for such a philosphical question so early in the morning.
“Well” I said ” I don’t know how much I can help you. That is one of the questions–like how do you get to God, or how do you get to Happiness–that take a lifetime to fathom”
She looked at me with mystification bordering on contempt.
“The club” she said, gesturing out the window to a tall building painted black, set behind some used car lots and disused warehouses “It’s a club. How do you get to it?”
“I can’t imagine how I would know” I said and put my foot on the gas.