Befuddled elderly gentleman can't find lawyer's office to sign will

I had a moment this afternoon when the thought crossed my mind that maybe I'm a little further along the Alzheimer Highway than I realized. One of the great joys of aging is planning for your death. When you're younger you figure why would you give a shit - you're dead! That's been my attitude most of my life, but the closer you get to your inevitable meet-n'-greet with the Grim Reaper, the more I've thought, oh, what the heck, maybe I should avoid leaving a big headache that will aggravate the heirs for years to come, or even longer. So a few months ago, based on queries to locals I know and trust, I made an appointment with a local lawyer whom I'd never met before, and we hashed out a draft last will and testament. A few weeks go by, and I get an email advising me it's ready for review and signing. Great! Much as I resent the entire process, I'm looking forward to getting it out of the way. The signing ceremony was scheduled for 1 pm today. So I pull into the parking lot a good 15 minutes early. I'm pumped! I'm ready to go! I'm finally doing some really important adult stuff that's a little overdue, and I'm feeling good! The parking lot wasn't quite the way I remembered it, but I'd only ever been there once, and didn't pay much attention. Then I went to the back entrance, and that's changed too. Last time, I was welcomed there, and today I'm greeted by a sign asking me to use the front door. Well, that seems a little odd... I go around to the front, and I notice there's no mention of any lawyerly enterprises on the sign at the street... WTF? Am I in the right place? I go into the memory files...two or at most three old red brick office buildings past a low-slung modern building on the corner. The modern building is right on the corner where it should be, but... so I go into the second place past it. The sign mentions a wellness spa and a tattoo parlour, and I realized instantly those were one and the same. There were at least four employees, and as far as I could tell, one client, but clearly this was an up-market tat joint. Everybody had enough piercings none of them coulda gone anywhere near a metal detector, and there was ink as far as the eye could see, and presumably where it couldn't too. I've had a little ink for fifty years and have always had an eye for top-shelf artists, and what I saw was first class. So, I apologize for interupting, and explain that my lawyer's office used to be in that building and would they know where it went, because I have an appointment blah blah blah... All four stop what they're doing and consult amongst one another. These are the sweetest, kindest people in the world, but they all agree there's never been any lawyers in their building. They enquire as to the name of the firm. I can't remember, and a panic attack is starting to move in as I realize I may have been duped by some shady fly-by-night operation... do I at least remember the name of the lawyer? Yes I do! Jennifer! I guess that wasn't quite enough for them to work with, and they seemed genuinely sad they couldn't help this obviously confused wretch who had wandered into their day. I get out and look up and down the street. I definitely remember the low-slung building, and there's no corners like that further west, so I shuffle eastward. By now I'm sweating profusely and just below panic threshold, when I get to the next light. As I push the crosswalk button I realize... there's a low-slung building on the corner opposite... is it possible? Could it be? By the time they let me in the back door at precisely 1 pm I was begining to recover, but I gotta say it gave me a wee fright for fifteen minutes. The old "steel trap" ain't what it used to be...