In my younger and more open-minded days, I spent a lot of time in the city. Even when I didn’t live in the city proper, I was a city-dweller. In the city, you see grates and doors in the sidewalk all the time. Sometimes they are steam grates, sometimes cellar doors for store stockrooms, sometimes above Metro, sometimes above drainage systems.

I used to imagine they were a test, and only the pure of heart could walk across them without falling through. And knowing my purity levels tended to waver, I would sometimes actually get a bit nervous in anticipation of walking across them.

Note: not the same kind of purity test as this — if it was that type of test, I would have only had a 30% chance of making it across.

Last week outside the Black Cat, I saw some of those cellar doors, and flashed back to those days of old. Before the show, I didn’t take a chance on walking across them. After the show, I figured, “what the hell,” and walked across.  Successfully.

Meanwhile, in Brooklyn:

Brooklyn Man Dies After Falling Through Sidewalk Cellar Grate