Making Room For The Crowd In P. Diddy's Mind

"Excuse me! You're not coming in here, are you?" booms the voice. It's coming from a large man in a sharp looking jacket and black driver's cap guarding the entrance to a building. I look at him, puzzled. This guy is adamant about keeping me away from a that I have no intention of entering. That's when I realize I'm outside the entrance to Bad Boy Entertainment Worldwide, the business umbrella of Sean John Combs, a.k.a Puff Daddy, a.k.a Puffy, a.k.a P. Diddy, a.k.a Diddy, a.k.a Cheesy Poofs, a.k.a Rumplestiltskin (because, why not?). That's when I see two men walking up the sidewalk and heading for the door, and one of them is most definitely Seanie Poofs himself. His head is buried deep into the hood of a white goose down coat (likely his own line), and he has his signature shades on. He walks swiftly and vigilantly toward the door. Someone must have called ahead to clear the path for him. But here's the funny thing: I looked around...and... there is... nobody on the sidewalk but me. All the hullabaloo is much ado about nothing.