So I started reading The Da Vinci Code this morning on the train to work. The introductory matter indicates that the ultra-Catholic and rather scary Opus Dei organization has fairly recently constructed its world headquarters at 243 Lexington.

That's only about two blocks from my office but I couldn't picture the building, so instead of going straight to work I figured I'd amble over to 34^th and Lex and take a look. I discovered I was well familiar with the building. It's a red-brick structure on the northeast corner that looks like a regular high-rise apartment building. On the 34^th St. side of the building there are a few benches set amidst some low bushes, with a sign identifying this as a small public space proferred by Murray Hill Place, which is also the only name to be found on the building.

I took a look at the 34^th St. entrance, then, feeling a little like a conspicuous gawking tourist, I wandered around to the Lexington Avenue side to see if there were any other identifying marks to be found. For some reason, the complete lack of anything but another modest MURRAY HILL PLACE sign struck me creepy and ominous.

I was just passing the Lexington entrance, craning my neck, when a loud voice at my shoulder said, "Hey, buddy!"

I just about jumped out of my shoes.

I turned. A fellow about my age, hip-looking, was jogging past. "You have something on your pants!" he said. "Like, a tag down the side."

I was wearing a new pair of black jeans. I looked down at my pants, and after a second or two found the plastic sticker running down the right leg. I was mortified. I had worn the tag all the way from Queens. "Oh, Jesus," I said, peeling off the sticker and balling it up. "Thanks!"

As he jogged on up the avenue, the guy said cheerfully, "Better a guy spots it than some woman!"

Or the Opus Dei flunkies no doubt watching me on closed-circuit TV. I tossed the tag in a corner garbage can and hurried to the office, feeling stupid for more than one reason.