I went through an unlocked door near Lewiston High School’s gym, and bought a drink from a vending machine.

Too easy. I walked back outside.

I strolled the perimeter, drinking from a plastic bottle, checking doors as I went. Nearly all were locked, or lacked knobs. I found an open entrance to the Lewiston Regional Technical Center and went back inside.

I wandered, going through empty hallways, past lockers and classrooms, and a police officer talking on a telephone.

He didn’t notice me.

Neither did anyone in the protruding semi-circle of the main office, the first two times I walked past. On those occasions, students swirled around me at about twice my leisurely pace.

I thought I’d stick out.

After all, I’m old (for high school). I was wearing dress shoes, not sneakers. My tie was pinkish. I’m bald as a baby’s behind, not exactly the “in” look with the high-school crowd. And I had a black messenger bag – major uncool – slung over my right shoulder.

Everyone looked through me. Students and adults alike. Two faculty members even wished me a cheery “good morning!” on my rounds. I felt the gaze of others alight on my shoulders, but they stayed silent.

So I kept meandering. I used the restroom. I sauntered to the top floor, and down again. The walkabout lasted about 20 minutes, ending when I passed the board littered with Sun Journal clippings for the third time without being noticed.

It was time to change strategy. So, after cutting through the courtyard near the main office, I made my final assault. The front door. I donned my press pass, and entered.

I made it about three steps before Principal Gus LeBlanc stopped me.

He thought I was arriving, but I was actually ready to leave.

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