this

"This place looks odd," you think.

The lobby that opens in front of you is large, with a high, lofty ceiling filled with properly spaced skylights to illuminate the entire space. The whole place seems like it was built by a crazy architect who only gave little links for navigation around the building.

Two secretaries are seated at the main desk in the center of the lobby--the desk is carved out of dark cherry wood with intricate details worked into the grains. It is less imposing than most front desks, you realize, and they'll probably help you if you have any questions. There's also a comment box, equipped with the required golf-pencils and index cards, if you wanted to complain to the owner. But who is the owner anyway?

The large revolving door now slows to a stop, now spins again letting sections of the moderately-large, teeming crowd enter and exit around you. That door must get some use, leading from this place to somewhere else.

You see an elevator to take you to different floors, but there are none of the usual lines of people waiting for it. Instead, everyone is using the giant spiral escalators on the far left and far right of the lobby, one going up, the other going down. But what about the people who want to use the stairs?

Large iron rebar runs along the tempered, imprinted steel sheeting that encases the whole lobby, and columns raise fluted white marble wings at intervals around the space, filling it with a majestic and mediterranean feel. There is a mighty statue taking up a large space on the western edge of the lobby, a barrel-chested man wearing overalls and large boots, carrying an axe in one hand, a bag of seeds in the other.

Anyway, you walk past the elevators in your curiosity and see that there's a directory to this place. What did you come here for again? The big red button on the wall at the end of the lobby that says "fun" might be interesting. Might be fun. But you're always careful around big red buttons.

And why did that receipt floating by catch your eye?