I had agreed to purchase airline tickets for my friend’s two kids by a certain date. I was out shopping on the last possible day that I could get them， when I realized that I had completely spaced the tickets off. It was 4:30 p.m.， and there was no way that I could make it to the airport to get the tickets. So I stopped at a phone booth and looked in the yellow pages for travel agents. There was a listing for "Macy’s Travel Agency，" and the address was directly across the street from where I was. I called the number in the phone book and a man answered， "Macy’s Travel Agency." I asked him what time they closed. He told me that they closed at 5:00. So， I asked him if they were located inside the actual Macy’s store or just in the plaza itself. He gave me these exact directions:
Go inside Macy’s store. Go to the center of the store. You’ll see the escalator. Go up to the third floor. As soon as you step off the escalator， if you look straight ahead， you’ll see a small office area that’s all lit up. Go to the desk， turn right down a small hallway， and we’re the second door on the right.

I hung up the phone and ran across the street. I got on the escalator going up， but as I was nearing the third floor， I realized that there were no lights on up there. As my head cleared the floor， I looked around， and there was nothing up there except tools， boards and signs that said， "Please excuse our dust." I decided that as soon as I stepped off， I would just run around to the other side and get on the down escalator. But as I stepped off， I noticed that there was a small office area that was all lit up directly in front of me. I mustered up all of my courage and I walked to the main desk.

I could see the hallway to my right， but I had forgotten which door I was supposed to go to. I rang the bell and a young woman came out of the back. I told her that I couldn’t remember which door was the travel agency. She looked confused and told me that she didn’t think that there was a travel agency in the store. I was too impatient to argue with her， so I asked to see her supervisor. A man came out and I asked him the same question. He shook his head and told me that he thought there might have been a travel agency there a few years ago， but it had been gone for at least three years. I told him that I had just called the travel agency’s number a few minutes ago， and the man had given me directions to get to this office on the third floor.

He asked me where I had gotten the phone number to call. I told him it was in the phone book. He came around to my side of the desk and pointed to a payphone located on the wall of the office area. He handed me the phone book and told me to find it. I looked it up in the Yellow Pages， and showed him the number. He handed me a quarter， and told me to call the number. So I did.

It rang once and then I heard a loud tone， and a recording said， "I’m sorry， but the number you have dialed is either disconnected or no longer in service.... " I was holding the phone so that he could hear it also. I turned and looked at him. He smiled at me and said， "Do， do， do， do， . . ." (the theme from "The Twilight Zone"). I dropped the receiver and ran to the escalator as fast as I could. I’ve tried to figure it out， but I can’t. I’ve never shopped at Macy’s since.