A Private Park? You must be joking!

My office is located at East 23rd Street in New York so I rarely think of my lunch time as a break. I walk out of the intimidating skyscraper and here I am again, surrounded by 20 even more intimidating skyscrapers. I need to make a fast decision where and what to eat, and calculate how much time I have left. Today, in the middle of that hassle, with a sandwich in my hand, I discovered an oasis.
The quiet park at Lexington Avenue looked like the perfect place for my lunch break. From across the street I saw a dark green fence, wooden benches, and jumping squirrels, enjoying the warm weather. "From now on I am having my lunch here," I thought to myself cheerfully. The strange thing was that I couldn't find its entrance. "Okay, there are people inside, so they must have entered somehow," I tried to unravel the mystery. Two of the doors that I reached were locked, and I continued circling around my quiet oasis. "Excuse me, where is the entrance to the park," I finally decided to ask a middle-aged man with grey hair and sunglasses, who was also looking at the park with a confused expression.
"This is it but it's locked. It is a private park - it belongs to the people who live here," he pointed to the buildings around. "Only they have keys for it. That's how it is today," he laughed.
I couldn't believe my ears. A private park?
"Now where am I going to have my lunch break," I asked myself and joined the other people sitting on the outside part of the dark green fence of the Lexington Avenue oasis.