I worked in a very fancy pastry shop. The walls were sort of a pastel red and there was lots of gold trim. Lots of sunlight streamed through the large front windows. The shop was owned by a guy I know. He had a big hole in his forehead, about the size of a lemon. It went all the way down to his brain. There was a Wes Anderson museum a few doors down to the left of the shop, and I was excited about getting off work and visiting it.