As most of you know, I moved to a new neighborhood here in downtown Manhattan this summer. It’s called Gramercy. I never knew how cute Gramercy was until I moved here and started exploring it. But I have been achingly familiar with Gramercy Park for many years. Not familiar with it from the inside, though.
I’m not allowed in.
Gramercy Park is the only private park in Manhattan. Its gates are always locked. The park has been locked this way since 1844. Those first keys were made of solid gold. Only residents who live on the perimeter of the park are granted keys. My place is like a block from the park. One block = too far away for a key.
This rule, of course, is unacceptable.
I am determined to procure a key to the park. Gramercy Park is absolutely gorgeous. And no one’s ever in it! It’s the most beautiful, peaceful park and it pretty much sits empty day after day. People with their exclusive keys don’t know how lucky they are. Right before I moved, I made a pact with myself that the key shall be mine. Not sure how it will happen. But it will happen. Always dreaming big…
So of course The New York Times did a huge front-page article on these elusive Gramercy Park keys right when I’m trying to score a black market key on the DL. Way to blow up my spot, NYT. Whatevs. That just makes me even more determined to get one.
According to the article, there are only 383 keys to the park. They are numbered. They are coded. And they are guarded like you wouldn’t believe.
This clearly calls for a plan of Ocean’s 11 caliber.
P.S. The locks and keys are changed every year.
Oh, and P.P.S.? The keys are virtually impossible to duplicate.
Bring it on, key energy. I’ll bring the power of the Clooney.