rshort1202

I am walking around at work (it looks very different, still like a department store, but not the one I work at) when Ryan calls 432 and says “I need change.” I am not on a phone and think I actually hear him say it since I just so happen to be a few yards from the register he is at. I see three different women in his view and figure one must be who he is calling about. Two look like moms with strollers. The other looks more suspicious, with sunglasses and a large purse. I think they all see me and take off running. There is a small pile of wadded up dresses on the ground that I think the girl with the purse must have dumped. There is also a set of keys, which I pick up and keep. I am now briefly in a room or at a table taking a picture of one of the keys (or some metal piece attached to a key) that has some identifying number on it. I think Laynie is here now and we are watching this girl. She goes somewhere downstairs a bit before going upstairs. I thought she would have been spooked, but it seems like we think she might still steal. I’m now walking around and getting ready to close when I notice there are still a lot of people here.

(fragment) I am outside and walking along a thin dirt trail. It descends a short but steep incline, crosses what looks like a thin dry creek, and then ascends another hill. There is a lady coming down the incline opposite me. She stops and makes sure no one is coming before she crosses the dry creek. I see her do this and give her a thumbs up to let her know she’s clear. She then passes me and makes a rude, unjust comment about me doing that for her. Angry, I aggressively cuss her out. I don’t get why she would get angry over my doing that.



(fragment) I am in a store and debating buying a book. It is a slender book of current need-to-know beers written by a woman. It seems too short, but I think it could be a good addition to my collection, especially since the small, yellowish sticker on it informs me that it’s only $1. I think I start off but then go back for it

I am at work with Lainey. We have stopped a teen girl right outside the mall entrance. I think it’s the same girl that she stopped in Sephora and had me be a witness for. Her mom happens to be right over here, so we have her come over. I kind of explain what happened and tell her it’ll be easier since she’s here. The mom seems pretty understanding. I am holding a shoe box that is apparently what she stole. I start to go through it, and I find ear buds (which I think could’ve been hers since they’re a little tangled and not exactly brand new looking) and a smaller pair of shoes shoved inside a larger pair of shoes (they’re like a converse or something with a high ankle area that allows this to happen). I noticed that the box did feel a little heavy. I talk to just Lainey for a second - she wants to let her go, but I really don’t since the shoes are around $100.

I am outside somewhere with whom I am pretty sure is Scott from work. The area looks like stereotypical Nevada scenery - gentle hills, dirt, and sagebrush. I am chewing on what seems to be a few tiny pieces of bone, separating any meat left on them. As I listen to Scott talk, I spit the pieces completely devoid of meat. He is telling me about Nathaniel’s girlfriend and how she goes somewhere or has access to somewhere (due to wealth, family, etc.). We’re apparently going to use her connections to go there as well. I picture her, think about telling him I know her, then tell him “Kevin, I mean Nathaniel, is one of my old best friends.”




I am with one or two employees at work (it is not really work, but seems more like a multiple level shopping center or hotel). I think Hunter is one of them. We’re each carrying a stack of jeans and when we walk past a man one of us gets the idea to say something that makes it sound like we’re trying to steal these. The man falls for it and starts following us. We end up down on the ground floor and outside or in an outdoor entryway area, right outside the elevator. I think we’ve left the jeans elsewhere, and the man is gone too. I’m looking at the gap between the elevator and the floor that is exposed by the open doors. I shine my phone’s flashlight into it, tentatively, afraid of dropping my phone down it. I contemplate what happens to things that are dropped down there. I can’t see the bottom.

I am in what I think is a Kohl’s (though I’m not sure it really looks like one). I’m with a familiar? guy and bringing some clothes to the fitting room to try on. They seem to all be on hangers. The fitting room is a stall set atop a little raised platform. The door is sized so that one can see the occupant’s feet as well as just above their head. For a moment, I am watching either myself or someone else; the clothes can clearly be seen hanging. I ponder the result of this on theft, thinking it probably lessens it. I don’t think I end up getting anything.




I am in what I think is a movie theater. It seems like it is a much older building, or like I am in the past. There are mostly middle aged hippies filling in and into the theater. I’m in a sort of hallway outside the theater; I pull back a curtain over an opening and get a glimpse of the theater. I then go find a seat. Looking around, I’m very surprised I don’t smell pot. It does look hazy though. This film that is being shown is very psychedelic, not in an overdone or hackneyed way, but in a very synesthetic way. The clips or scenes are disjointed and cause visceral sensations. It seems the film is being shown to elicit collective response that becomes the spectacle itself. The whole thing is very phantasmagorical

I am doing an escape room with Melissa, Brooke, and possibly Breezy. This place looks like an actual house, with a few rooms that we can go into. The house seems very tidy and sort of minimalistic, though not without adornments, and has an antiquated feeling to it, as if lived in by an older person. I get the sense of some sort of travel theme, aided by a huge map of the world taking up almost a whole wall. We are trying to escape now, and it seems like I’m doing a lot of it. It’s not that they aren’t or can’t, it’s just that I can excel in a small group of familiar people. I end up moving a bunch of hanging paintings. One has a clue written in red ink on its back side. Many reveal a tiny, circular light bulb protruding from the wall behind. I imagine that these will all light up later and serve as a clue one way or another. I like that the clues flow easily, even if somewhat too easily, and aren’t disjointed. I had moved a small realistic painting of a brown bear (the bear on a slight incline, seemingly in motion, very realistic, and cropped fairly close). One clue mentioned something ‘dreary’, which we noticed with some excitement was referencing a very large and impressionistic painting of people that looked dreary indeed. (*As I write this, I think it may have been moving this painting that revealed the map). I think we are supposed to place small pins in certain spots on the map. The map is now gone? and there are just little holes in the white/tan wall. There seems to be three different clusters of holes, and I think the pin needs to be placed in the correct hole. Melissa guesses the first placement correctly, after which a recorded voice from a speaker tells us we’ve gotten it correct. We try the other ones but never get a response. I end up telling our situation the female employee on the other end of the radio. She’s quiet for a second and then I hear her say to someone else “I have no idea.” I also don’t really know what there is for them to do when a piece of the game simply isn’t working. At this point, I’m thinking we’ll just have them tell us the answers to this part. I also notice that Melissa and Brooke seem to be off doing something else. I hear them talking and laughing in another room. Then it becomes more quiet, and I go look. Melissa is laying in a small bed in an alcove in the wall just big enough for it. I notice a gap between the far and the wall along the head of the bed (which is reminiscent to me of the sleeping quarters on a boat). Melissa looks grumpy, her face sort of flushed and pouting, her gaze diverted. I go to kiss her but she moves so that we kiss each other on the cheek instead. At this point, I notice that her eyes are a little misty. I was what’s wrong and she keeps saying nothing, etc. I finally get it out of her that she’s upset that the puzzle room is not working as it’s supposed to. It irritates me because it’s such a trivial thing to let yourself get upset over. I go back into the other room now, and I don’t think we even have radio contact with this girl. She said she was going to call the shoe room? This room is behind the other. There’s a writing desk and an old corded phone that I see but never hear. While waiting, I start opening drawers, but find nothing. I’m wondering how much further this puzzle room will go into the house. I notice a bathroom and a room or two off of this one. I never do hear the phone. Earlier, I noticed a timer with a green ‘70’. I thought that meant we were doing really well on time.




I am at Walmart? with Melissa, buying only two things. We are at the end of what is apparently the only line, behind a family of four that looks nice enough but also a little privileged. The woman notices how we only have two items and offers for us to just throw it in with their stuff. I was going to use a gift card, and I’m not sure how much is on it exactly, so I’m not sure how that’d work.




I am outside of a grocery store. I run up to the entrance, pushing a cart, and ask the younger looking boy employee if they do valet, with an absurd touch of humor. I then leave the cart and run inside to retrieve what I’ve forgotten.




I am watching (on the news or some kind of video?) cars driving in both directions on a freeway through a snowstorm. Someone is commenting on how it’s almost been the worst winter when, sure enough, a car starts to drift and ends up impacting a school bus. Then school bus then takes out another vehicle and the whole thing exponentiates into an event that just made it the worst winter to date.

I am working at Sherwin Williams. I think I have come back for just today. I think I’m going to just work today and use all my old info to clock in, etc, as if that’ll actually work. I’m thinking that the people still working here will remember me and remember that I left. I am in a sort of goofy, detached mood that has to do with me being back in a place that I willingly left. This place definitely doesn’t look like SW, but more like a movie theater or something similar. Everyone is gathering in a dim room with a stage or some other platform and fairly steep, tiered, red seats. Melissa’s dad is giving a speech or talking to everyone. I am walking in with Nathaniel Fuller? (He appears to be as he was when I knew him). He is in the lead and takes an aisle seat in the front row. I’m not sure whether I’m sitting with him or not, so I survey the seating. There’s an empty row, but I’m not sure if it’d be weird if I sat alone or not. I end up taking the seat between him and another (familiar?) guy. The seat seems small and I feel squished between the two. Now, (or maybe it was earlier?) I am walking around here. There’s a long hallway area and different inlets. I enter one and am in a grocery store. I felt like I was going to get lost or end up somewhere and not really know how to get back, and now it has happened. I see a chubby guy with shaggy hair and scruff pushing a shopping cart. It is full of liters of light colored soda. I think I try to find my way back. I am with Melissa and Brooke now, outside and by some small, enclosed ticket taking booth inside which sits a middle aged woman. We have some receipt (from Sherwin Williams?) that we’re trying to use to go to the restaurant or food place that the tickets are for. We don’t have the actual ticket, but I’m thinking that this receipt will show that we have permission. I could see where the lady would think we’re being fraudulent, but we’re not. When she talks to us, Brooke’s replies are kind of snarky, even though this lady let us through. She’s actually been pretty nice, and probably doesn’t care if we do get to go.




I am in the living room at Dad’s. From my perspective, it looks like I could have just come in from the garage. I’ve walked into a scene of two police officers sitting on the floor and a large group of people standing around them. Dad may be here too, and I think the officers may be in plainclothes. They tell me they are here because of my social media rends/tendencies. I feel a pang of guilt in my stomach that is only amplified by the disappointed looks on every face. I am thinking that they’ve found me out and there’s nothing to do about it but accept it. I am slightly relieved when they tell me that they can’t do anything about it legally, But then I think that means the FBI has to get involved.

I am in Discology with Makayla and Zack Dussaq from Rocksport. Makayla seems like a younger version of herself. Discology looks different - more of a square room with boxes of records along the walls and on tables. The place just seems antiquated, even for a record shop. I am looking through a box in a corner (the spot, in the dream, where I always look?). I see 10,000 Days, which is in a box. The box is a dusty brown color that looks faded, by design I’m pretty sure. It may be slightly textured with pebbling, and it i very plain in a way that almost suggests a lot about what is within. I gently lift the top off and start inspecting the records - there is a small stack inside. They look brand new, marred by only a thin layer of dust. There seems to be only a track or two per side, the actual groove area taking up maybe a ¼ of the side. I notice some pretty distinct run out etchings, causing me to wonder if this is a bootleg or official release, etc. I have another new looking record, which I decide to get. Zack has gone upstairs to ‘pee’, but he’s been a very long time, which Makayla and I are laughing about. I now hear him getting ready to come back down and can just imagine his self consciousness. We make our way over to David to pay, and I find on a table a little stone turtle with a shark tooth inlaid in its belly. I think it’d be perfect for Mom, so I take it too, observing each side a few times. The tooth takes up the whole belly, is flat, and may actually be stone also. I think the record is $15, which seems high or higher than I’m used to. I think about how I always end up finding something in that spot. This causes me to realize I didn’t look anywhere else, but I’m okay with that

I am going to Kohl’s with Melissa. When we get inside, I’m not sure I see Melissa anymore. I get into a pretty long line that winds its way through what looks like the home section. I notice at least a couch or two. I then realize I haven’t even looked at clothes, so there is no reason I should be waiting in this line to check out. For whatever reason, my leaving this line seems like it could be suspicious. And as soon as I leave the line and start to enter the men’s clothes section, an older male employee attends to me. He asks what I’m looking for or need, and I tell him ‘a bathroom’. He walks me to a door in this small hallway. The sign says women and/or has a woman figure; I start to tell him this, but he simply opens the door, clearly revealing urinals within. This supersedes the sign, so I enter. Instead of the urinals, I begin using a square cut out in the stone floor full of water, watching it tipple and yellow. I know the man is waiting outside. I think he is going to be hovering like this while I shop as well.

I am in some building. This building may be more of a house, though it is vast and labyrinthine. I think an Asian woman is showing me around or I keep running into her. At one point, she is introducing me to ‘the author’. He is a fairly unassuming man with brown hair and a full but medium length beard. He is in formal dress, along with the few other men with him. They appear to be golfing at an indoor course (or simulation?) in this room that was right around a corner. I’m under the impression that this ‘author’ has made enough to afford this house. He gives me a curtly respectful nod, and I move along. There are a myriad of rooms and furnishings, blending into the whole layout, often lacking clear demarcations between rooms. There is a large, plush bed in a corner. In it, under the comforter, lies a man and two or more women. I think that’s a high ratio, then I see another man’s head in the small sea of bedding and pillows. I may be in search of a bathroom, or I may just be passing a few. The second one I pass seems narrow and branching off in two directions. I think one side has sinks and the other has toilets or urinals. Either way, it is far too large than is necessary for a house.






I am going into a Sam’s Club with Melissa. We are not members, so I think we’ve snuck in somehow. We gather a few shopping bags worth of goods and proceed to the check out. Instead of paying there, you’re supposed to give your phone number. We give a fake number. We’re given a receipt which is checked by a man on the way out. We give this (Hispanic?) man a different receipt - from a different, real transaction or something. This receipt is from a different location, though, and we had folded it to obscure that, but he ends up seeing it. We’re not sure what to do, but we end up sneaking away when he becomes distracted by something. We stay close to the line of parked cars. I start to run, but Melissa tells me not to, as it’ll be more noticeable. Later, we are somewhere and I am thinking that we’re probably going to get caught. I think we’ve done this before too. I feel remorse and don’t want the repercussions of being caught.

I am with Melissa, entering some building. It feels like a very large CVS. it also feels like we’re upstairs. We walk past the aisles, looking for something. I think we passed what we’re looking for (condoms?). There is also a church inside here; there are a few openings in the walls through which I can see that the church area is down some stairs. Their session seems to be starting, as people are filling in. Now we are outside the building (*this may have been in the beginning). There’s a group of people, and they start to line up, holding hands, blocking the road. A dark grey/black car attempts to drive through them, but they seem to be able to mostly hold him back. Now a guy in a camo button up shirt squats down and lifts the back of the car, eventually flipping it over.

I am in some building that feels like maybe a school or somewhere with some offices in the back. I’m waiting in the wood paneled hallway, waiting for the man inside the office to finish up with someone. The other person leaves, inciting a silence to take over. I peek my head through the doorway and see the man focused on some work on his desk. I really hate to interrupt this, but I slowly enter and ask if he has a moment. He says yes and waits kindly for me to talk. I slowly tell Bill Kreutzmann, addressing him by his first name, “thank you.” He seems to get rather emotional, and tears appear in his eyes. This causes me to become a little emotional as well. He tells me that means so much to him and that no one’s ever told him that before. I try to lighten it up a bit by saying something like ‘thank you for just fuckin’ playing the drums in a band that means a lot to me.’ We talk a bit more, and I end up leaving here with him. We approach a car, his, in the lot, where another man asks Bill about me. Bill says I’m fine, the other man nods, says I’m ‘in’. Bill now drives us, me in the back, to some type of shopping center. I’m out of the car with the door still open when Bill comes over, and I ask jokingly if I’ll need any of these, gesturing to three Grateful Dead shirts laid out on the bench style seat (and a backpack of mine - the backpack I had in middle school?) He chuckles and says no. I mention how I have the three, the first with ‘Grateful Dead’ in a large font, the second a tie dye, and the third a grey one (thinking of the grey one I have with the skull and glasses). We now walk into a building here. Once inside, I lose track of Bill and the other man. There’s quite a few people walking around in here. I awkwardly start walking around, until a man by a doorway gestures to me, seemingly knowing what I’m looking for. I go through the doorway, and it is now clear why we’re here. This large living room sized room has a stage at the far wall. The drum set takes up a large portion of it (maybe a quarter of the stage, though it’s centered). There are a few rows of picnic styled tables here. The lighting is dim and blueish. I deduce that Bill is going to be playing with a band here tonight. I think that it’s a weekday and I hadn’t planned on being out late, but I’m fine with it. The few tables are mostly full, but I look for a spot, doubling back once. I then find a spot at the end of one closer to the door and have a seat. A girl (someone I knew from high school?) has her knees on the bench and the rest of her body bent over the top of the table. She then slides back down, leaving less room by me. I look amongst those seated and notice Ian and some other familiar faces from high school. They’re singing “god don’t play dice with the universe” with a sort of subtle communal fervor. It irritates me that these ‘cooler’ kids are capitalizing on something that a less popular person, like myself, genuinely likes. Now, I (and maybe 1-2 others) am lying on the ground in front of the stage. The stage seems very tall from down here. The ground seems very soft, more like carpet or grass. I am flat on my back, with my eyes closed. I think I am paying attention to sensory input and getting slight OBE feelings/perceptions.




I’ve gone into some store with Melissa. I’m not sure if this building is standing alone or entered into from another building. The place seems to sell only craft beers as well as wine. I look all over for a certain beer (Moonraker?) but do not see it anywhere. I think I ask someone, and he doesn’t see any either. I think I’ll just pick up two six packs that were on sale, something like 2 for $6, because it’s a good price. I go to grab it and can’t find it. I look all over again and still don’t see it, so I just grab a Hop Valley IPA that’s the same deal. The cans look like pints and are grey with a fairly plain label.