What do a door in L.A.'s Griffith Observatory and the Publishing Industry have in common?

Just when you think you've found a way in... you get this:

This picture is not a picture.
It's okay, though. That door was subjective. We queried another entrance and it turned out to be an actual entrance.

On the other hand, once you're "in" the publishing industry, you might run into this:
The restroom of doom in Venice Beach
I got locked in here. And the rest of my party had already started down the boardwalk. And trust me when I say the last place you want to be randomly pounding on a door, screaming like a crackhead, from inside the toilet, is Venice Beach. 

In the end, a nice man, with dreadlocks coming out of his armpits and an odor that had me writing home to mom, helped me out of my predicament.

He then proceeded to try to sell me his CD of reggae music. Which I of course bought. After I explained to him that he was white. I will buy anything from a stranger who breaks me out of the john.

That's my mission statement.

I have one more day of the WIFYR conference. I plan to have a wrap-up of all the awesome nuggets of wisdom for next week. 

So, what's everyone up to? Anyone else get trapped in a bathroom in Venice Beach? Or worse, anyone else querying right now?