She also found out that you don't ask New Yorker's for directions. The few times that she did they ignored her or pushed her out of the way after saying things like, "buzz off, lady," or "how the hell do I know," then they would disappear into the crowd. Frustrated by the way she was being pushed around, she retreated to her room on 47th Street. Alone in her room she sat next to the window and looked at the huge buildings that surrounded her, they were all she could see from her room on the thirty-seventh floor. More than once she looked at the letter Mr. had sent her, and stared at the number he said to call, but in reality, she wanted to meet him face to face for their first meeting. But if all she did when she left the hotel is get lost, it looked as though she was going to have to call him and start having him run her life right from the get-go

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