It was ten in the morning, and I was meeting my pal Janet at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. After spending a moment enjoying the sight of the tourists clustered around the iconic Rocky statue, I climbed the 72 steps to the museum entrance.
I didn’t sprint up them like Sylvester Stallone once did but, at 69, I was happy to make it to the top, easily, without getting winded.
High Crimes and Museum Misdemeanors
I opened one of the museum’s big glass doors, stepped inside, and was immediately confronted by a museum guard.
“We’re not open yet!” he said sternly. “We open at ten. You just broke in.”