I started reading a horrible book a week ago and then, as if to spite me, the book got better. Engrossingly better. The main characters had killed a random stranger, then killed a friend in order to cover it up. On the bus ride into downtown Minneapolis, a sickening paranoia had swept over them and, by association, me.

I'm a bit skittish going against the rules of things, and don't like to cause trouble. I didn't want to have to break into anywhere to complete this task with tall buildings, so I decided to go to the highest point accessible by an employee... even though I was definitely not an employee of any of these places.

Minneapolis' skyline holds a dear place in my heart, so I decided to focus on the three tallest buildings: the IDS Center, 225 South Sixth, and the Wells Fargo Center. Of course I needed to leave a bit of proof that I was there, so I wrote each building (and the employees) a note. I have a soft spot for inanimate objects being picked on (like when Charlie Brown's poor Christmas tree falls over from the weight of the ornament, I get all teary!). So I tried to do a bit of encouragement in each note. I posted the note where it could be seen when I got to the highest level, and got pictures through windows where I could!



I swear my heart was about to leap out of my chest the whole time (residual book paranoia, no doubt), but I used my tried and true method to do this: act like you know what you're doing/where you're going and people generally won't ask questions. This worked flawlessly in both 225 South Sixth as well as the Wells Fargo Center; if security guards or office people looked at me, I greeted them with a short "Hello," but didn't stop walking.



225 South Sixth (the building with the hat/crown), was pretty deserted and easy. I got to the top floor and posted my sign, though I hadn't planned well and had to crouch in a corner to tear the tape. Some people at an international communications firm were still coming and going from work, though I got a cool view out of one of the conference rooms.



Wells Fargo Center is amazing, and looks like it was built in the 20s or 30s, but was built in 1988. I had to take two elevators to get to the top, and the second elevator was REALLY posh, with a sign on the inside denoting where in Italy the marble on the walls had been imported from. There was a super tiny lobby at the top, and I didn't want to stick tape to anything expensive or crazy, so I left it by the elevator button. Someone will see it tomorrow!



IDS Center is imposing and I was really intimidated by it, though nobody gave me any troubles. I got up to the top floor, my sign ready to go, and OH MAN A TON OF PEOPLE. Some ladies got onto the elevator, and I scooted into the lobby. Another woman came running out from a reception area, and sighed that she missed the elevator. The only thing inconspicuous I could think of to do was to play with my cell phone, which I flipped open and started staring at.

"Good luck getting reception all the way up here!" she said good-naturedly to me. I asked if it usually gave her trouble, and she said it did, and cut out totally in the elevators. I said something about "hoping he got the message I sent on the ground," and I nodded towards the doorway of a famous law firm that I've seen advertised on daytime TV for injuries. She chuckled and said that I'd get used to the reception eventually, and we wished each other a good night before she hopped into an elevator.

I quickly posted my final sign in the lobby and then hustled out of there... though not without a final stop. Growing up, my father had told me there used to be a restaurant close to the top of the IDS, "Windows on Minnesota," with spectacular views, but it was a private event hall now. Since I was small, I dreamed of having such an amazing view of the city, maybe on the 4th of July and watching multiple fireworks displays. Well, it was only one floor down from me, so I hopped in the elevator and stopped on floor 50.



Absolutely stunning. Some sort of reception was going on in a hall around the corner, but the doors were closed and the laughter and music muddled. I took my camera out and went right up to the window, drinking in a beautiful panoramic view of Minneapolis from the crazy height. I also spooked myself again by looking straight down, and then I hustled back onto the elevator and down to street level, blending in with the commuter crowd once again.