rshort1202

I think I am at work. Yasuko is massaging my back. The massage is deep and she uses a lot of pressure, but it is not uncomfortable. In fact, it is greatly relaxing. She seems to have done it randomly and nonchalantly, but when she is done my body feels better and more flexible.

I am upstairs at work. There is a group of three to four white teenage (or younger?) boys by the Levi jeans that have selected a bunch of clothes quickly. I think they may also have a bag, maybe a sports bag from here? that they’re putting it all into. I think Scott is downstairs and talking to me over the radio. I am over by the boys and I think it makes them leave, leaving everything behind. I start looking through the clothes in the bag, and I only find one empty hanger. I’m not sure what we’re doing exactly, but at least they didn’t get anything, besides possibly one shirt.

I am camping at Frenchmans with Melissa and I think one other. We are sitting around the fire pit, and there’s quite a bit of stuff set up around it, like we’re here for a while or just well prepared. I’m not sure if there’s a fire going or not. It seems to be dusk or nearing dark. I think I’m going to start the fire now. I put down some paper materials for starters, but then I can’t find any wood. I bring it up to Melissa, and she has a brief look of realization. She says she forgot to bring it. I’m not sure what to do, then Melissa says she saw some in the trailer. That does sound right, so I go to check. The trailer feels more like a big car, but still partially like a trailer. I climb in and onto what seems to be the back seats. It seems more like a bed, a bed that could fit about two. It seems kinda comfy, and I think about sleeping with Melissa in here instead. I find the firewood and it is all on top of two folded down seats, shaped almost like it is serving as the seats instead. I wonder if I should really be taking any if it is serving a purpose here. I think that most likely Opa placed it like this. I end up pulling a few pieces out, most smaller but one longer. The wood is darker in color, thin, and not very heavy.




I am at work, going back on video to look for something, when I inadvertently see two guys arbitrarily grabbing Levis like they’re going to do a grab and run. I notice that one is wearing a backpack. Now I am out on the floor and right by them. I think just my walking by is enough to get them to drop the merchandise. They go over by men’s shoes and I think out an emergency exit door that’s open. Another man is standing by the door, sort of like a look out. He is wearing a white rabbit mask. It looks like a plain and rudimentary mask with just a strap on the backside, yet the effect is somewhat unnerving and intimidating. I don’t exactly want to go over there. I call Scott over the radio to see if he’s seeing this. From the way he says no, I assume he was not watching all along. I assume he’s pulling it up on camera now.

I have stopped into work on what feels like my day off. It doesn’t really look like work - it has more of a warehouse feel. I feel like I am on the second level when I see a man stashing a ton of Levis. He sees me looking at him, which seems to make him nervous. He has a pile stashed in a fitting room; I wait until he walks out and then lock and close the door to the stall so he can’t get to them and so I can put them in as a recovery later. Now, I think there is a woman that is with him. They are gone a moment later, and it looks like some of the Levis are missing. If they got them, they got a ton, because the stash was a huge stack or two. I’m now in what feels like the men’s department, the only difference being that the entire floor is empty. There aren’t even shelves. The floor looks like concrete, and the walls are either concrete or drywall. I think there are a few associates here, and they seem to notice the state of the place, at least somewhat. It seems like they don’t care much or are accustomed to it.

I am at work. It seems very dark, like all the lights are out or the power is out. There is a known shoplifter (the girl from yesterday who crammed clothes in a purse and went out the salon doors) who I think is coming out of a fitting room and/or heading for a door. I notice that she has a newer looking backpack with brighter colored stripes. I assume there is stolen merchandise in it, so I go up to her and tell her to just get it all out of there. She insists that she doesn’t have anything. She holds out a green toothbrush and she’s saying she got either it or the backpack from Walmart. *Right at this point I am awakened by Melissa and her alarm.

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.

I am at work when I notice a shorter, pudgy blond boy holding a shirt and standing right by the mall entrance. He is sort of obscured by the racks of clothes, but i still see him conceal the shirt somewhere on him and then exit. I know I’m not cleared to stop people by myself, and I don’t know where Lainey is right now, but I run after him anyway, feeling that it is justified. I go up to him and just tell him that he needs to come back. I let him lead, staying pretty close to him, noticing how young he looks. I ask his name and he tells me. I ask his age, and he tells me something like 13. I think about how old kids are looking for their age these days. At some point a girl has started walking with us, like she’s with him. When we get to the door, I tell them to put their bags and phones up on the desk. I recover the merchandise, hanging it on the wall. There are Nike sweats, two things from Pink, and something from another store. Now, there are three 20-somethings sitting in here, in three chairs facing the desk. They have grabbed the paperwork and are filling it out themselves, nonchalantly. The guy in the middle is even reclining and has his phone set up and playing a video or something. I take it and set it on the desk. Now, it is the boy and girl again. I look over and notice the girl playing a game on her phone. I hit it out of her hand, saying “Get off your fucking phone, I’m not fucking kidding.” Now, it seems a little later, and I’m being invited into a house by a slightly older looking Nathaniel’s dad. I get the impression that the two earlier were Nathaniel and Beatrice and he wants to talk to me about it. He plays a tape or recording and I hear myself saying what I said earlier and hear the phone hit the ground. He politely tells me that he thinks I was being aggressive. His mom is here now too, and I tell them that I’m very quiet and so I have to try to be more assertive. I tell them we never try to be mean to people there, that we tell everyone it can be easy and we want it to. They seem understanding. I also tell them that like half of the people we get are homeless and that it’s saddening.

I am working, though this place does not look like work. It almost seems like something at the Legends, like a department store at the edge of a shopping mall and its large parking lot. Laynie and I are watching cameras when we notice an old lady stuffing jewelry into her purse in a deserted aisle. I think she is with 1-2 others, and they may be doing so also, but we only see the lady do it. We go out into the parking lot after her to stop her. She comes back, and now I’m alone with her in what looks like a large, empty fitting room stall. There’s a desk in here, on which are all the stolen items that were in her bag. There are about 3 to 4 boxes of different shapes and sizes. I am asking her questions and filling out paperwork, confidently. I ask things like why she did it and if she’s done it before. I feel in charge, but I am also being nice with her. I can’t really read her, but she seems to not care.


*The following seem like fragments, but are probably part of this dream since the fitting room and parking lot seem the exact same.

Laynie and I have gone out into the parking lot to stop a few teen girls. As soon as one sees me approach and try to talk to her, her face reddens and she turns hard to avoid me. They try to run from us as we yell that they could come with us or we could call the cops.

I have brought a teen couple back into the fitting room with the desk. I am being funny and friendly but serious with them. They don’t seem to care that they’re in here. I have them turn over the stolen merchandise, and they start stripping off tons of clothes and concealed clothes. I’m almost impressed with how much they have - I think I tell them this. It seems like they do this almost professionally.

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 at what looks like work, out on the floor and at a table (that is not really there) by the registers. There are a few different cakes that Mom has made sitting out. I think she’s sitting here too. I’m trying the cakes, and they are really good. Walking around now, I see only Beth ringing and what looks like a forming line. When I go to help, I see that the ‘line’ of people are still looking around. There is something about the Grateful Dead’s ‘worst’ show that happened to be played in Mexico. I think I am currently listening to it. It is very short. I think there are only six songs in the first set and one short song before drums in the second. I think there is a song with Bob and some female pop singer that really just doesn’t sound like them. Kat is here, and I tell her it is pretty terrible. Then I realize she was at the show and I don’t want to sound mean; I say it’s still fine because it’s the GD, but it is bad for their standards.

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 at work and entering the fitting room. I am not alone either; at least four other people are also entering at the same time. I notice a fairly dirty looking guy in his 20s and his female companion. He has long and shaggy brown hair (or dreads) and baggy clothes, and she has dark hair and pants and a somewhat skimpy purple tank top. The guy, with a sort of detached fervor, starts grabbing anything in reach on the folding tables (I notice a folded dress shirt) like he’s going to take them into the stall and steal them. I think he has not noticed that I work here. I say “hey man” kind of casually, which startles him and causes him to look guilty and remorseful. I think he leaves now, and I start checking the stalls. Most have a floor completely obscured by tried on and tossed clothes. One contains a man passed out or sleeping on the floor and amongst the clothes. I don’t even know what to do. Now I am helping ring up customers, and I notice the guy what was going to steal. He is actually buying a pair of black slacks.




I am with Melissa in a bed. I think we are just cuddling and talking. Now out of nowhere it begins to snow. Almost immediately the roads are covered. (It looks like downtown, like the street parallel to the river and behind the movie theater). I offer to give her a ride wherever so she doesn’t have to drive in it. I think it’s out of the way or will create a problem with where the cars are, but I don’t mind going out of my way. Now, I am driving us somewhere. I think Melissa says something about the speed, as if I’m going too slow. Right after, the car violently slides out and then corrects itself after a tense moment.




(I think this one was part of another dream that I can’t recall. It has a weird feeling to it). I’ve been watching a movie that is or is very similar to Hereditary. I have an image of Charlie’s decapitated head in my mind. It looks more animated and like it has more skin on the face, around the eyelids and lip areas. I think there is some distinct, enigmatic, seminal plot to this movie that I can’t stop thinking about.




I am sitting at Melissa’s kitchen table in the seat facing the sliding door. At least Carlos and one other family member is here. They’re talking about late puberty? (like in their early 20s). I lift my bare leg up so they can see the hair on it and say “I haven’t seen my legs since like fourth grade.” It elicits some chuckles. I then feel slightly self conscious about putting my bare foot on their table.

I am at work when I discover a huge rack of clothes that need to go back. (This place doesn’t look like work, but more like a store’s vestibule for shopping carts crossed with, now that I think about it, the women’s fitting room that I brought clothes to yesterday. Their rack was very full). Upon closer inspection, the myriad pants? look new, like they’ve just gotten here and are ready to be put on the floor. So I instead enter one of the fitting rooms, instantly disappointed that I do, finding a small sea of tried-on pants left on the ground. I notice a lot of their tags - Levis? As I filter through them, I think I find evidence of shoplifting. I end up finding quite a few fake bills (20s and 50s I think). I hold them up to the light, making the ink on them appear to have been drawn on. This and the crude renditions of the faces on the bills is quite humorous.




I am at work? (it seems to be the area above the escalators that is still near the clothes but is mostly now the area for appliances). I seem to be in a large kitchen model. I think there is an island counter surrounded by a large L of counter space and a plethora of cabinets. A middle aged couple and the mom of one of them come over now. The wife tells me she is looking for a cookie cutter. I start looking for her, genuinely trying, searching every single drawer and cabinet, left to right. I come across a total of three circular apple slicers, one of which I offer as the closest thing we have to a cookie cutter. She politely declines, but genuinely thanks me for looking, then tells me to have a nice day and leaves. I consider bringing one of the apple slicers to Dad’s. I now look in a drawer very close to the ground and find a bunch of newspaper clippings. They are ads or sales. One is offering a pizza for a certain price contingent upon you reviewing some place. I see a 13 near the top, leading me to believe that it is from 2013. I also discover a few black shirts - Marilyn Manson and Nine Inch Nails band shirts. They are marked down with turquoise clearance stickers on their tags. I think that Mom is keeping them in here so she can give them to me as (Christmas?) gifts later. I think about how I don’t even really know NIN and how the prices will probably be expired by now. There is also a soft looking, navy blue Grateful Dead shirt that I think is going to be for Dad. Makayla is here now, on the phone, and she asks what we should get for Dad. I tell her I don’t know.

I am with Melissa in some clothes store. I carry three pairs of Levis as we casually go into a fitting room stall and close the door. It’s just big enough for the two of us. Without me trying to do so, the ink tag on one of the pairs separates and comes off. I try them on and they fit very well (though they’re a little long). They’re sort of a faded Tahoe blue in color. Since they fit and the security tag fell off, I’m going to wear them out under my other pants. I tuck the cuffs into my socks for extra invisibility, and with my shirt back on they are entirely concealed. I briefly consider where to leave the ink tag, though it doesn’t matter a whole lot. I think about bringing the other two pairs back out, but then know it would be suspicious without the other pair I came in with, so I leave them in here. We casually walk out (into the mall?) and towards what would be the food court. We get in line for something (Brooke may be with us) There’s a guy about our age or younger in front of us. One of his friends appears and starts snaking his way in front of us. He has something with him that says (or he is labeled?) ‘Ladders’. The first guy is ‘Chutes’, so I guess it makes sense for them to be together and don’t fuss about him cutting. Melissa is holding a drink, a thin and tall glass clutched at chest level. This second guy starts grabbing at it, which is when I start to have a problem. He tries to make casual conversation. I clasp my hand on his shoulder, and, in a sort of fake amiability, pull him aside with more of a shove. I ask/tell him something. The first guy has his phone out and, sensing this new tension, bluntly says something to Melissa about her unfollowing/blocking him. Without missing a beat, she coolly responds with something to the effect of ‘not a chance’ or ‘not in a million years.’ i get the sense that maybe we’ve met them before and she was receptive on social media to be polite and/or because they didn’t seem too bad. We now pay for the mini golf? at the counter and go wait at some tables outside. Oddly enough, we are still going to be mini golfing with them.




I am at work when I discover that there is more to recover than there should be. Clothes are misplaced and strewn in random places. I notice a section in particular that no one attempted to fix while I was gone. This really irritates me, but I start working on it anyway. On top of a shelf there are pins and nails and the paper filling from inside the shoes. I see Rocio over here, so I go talk to her. She speaks a lot in Spanish, repeating some things. I understand some of it, trying to reply in Spanish too. I think she asks if I am going to teach. I tell her maybe, really considering it. The large, yellow cup from Dad’s is here and full of water. I take a large swig.




I am at a very small concert festival with Melissa. I see a lineup poster by a stage - Venom is playing at the same time as another band (they’re both headlining though?). Melissa asks me to pick which one we should watch. I pick Venom because they sound familiar. They come on and start, and Melissa rushes to the stage. I imagine moshing.

I am at work, in the clearance section. Two or three guys are browsing together over here; one of them approaches me, holding a pure white men's jumpsuit, saying he’s looking for a different size. I quickly scan all of the hanging white items as well as the single rack that’s on the wall by the jeans. I come back over to tell him that I didn’t find any, when we see a folded, white dress shirt on the cream white and fairly empty shelf in front of us at shoulder height. I casually offer it as a possible substitute. He unfolds it to find out that it’s actually a tuxedo vest. He says something like ‘oh nice, a vest,’ like it would actually work for him. As he is unfamiliar and possessing of a sort of expressionless face, I can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s fucking with me. I now unfold another, and this one is actually a dress shirt. It’s close to a jumpsuit in only the material - it’s heavier, like a broadcloth, also a cream white. This guy is actually happy with it and is going to get it. After they have left, I end up putting some items in the clearance next to the kids shoes. The shoes are on a torso-high display and looking pretty disheveled. There are way more things in this section than in real life. I start walking somewhere else, and the whole place is different and much larger than in real life. It seems more open; there’s a sort of skywalk to another part of the mall (or casino? - it feels a little like a casino). Over by it, I briefly help a Hispanic man look for something before I go to do something else. I end up over by the suits fitting room. There’s a computer desk at the wall opposing the opening at which sits Evelyn. I have the impression that someone’s been trying to call me on this radio, but I’m not entirely sure. I ask Evelyn if they have, and she says yes. Someone (the lady at work with sort of darker skin and frizzy hair who I think is a supervisor and whose name I’m not sure of) starts walking over to me, saying that I didn’t really help my customer if I didn’t completely follow through (referencing the Hispanic man). She directs our attention to the man who is standing on the skywalk, arms crossed, but not in an unpleasant way. He’s wearing a plum colored long sleeve with a vest over it, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. He seems dependent on the help, not in a co-dependent way, but more like he is turning the trust over to the employee. I tell this supervisor sorry, I was helping someone else and so my radio was down, slowly adjusting the volume up as I speak. I do feel poorly for leaving him and for not hearing the radio. I tell her I know I was helping him, but I forget what for, and ask if she knows. I genuinely am trying to remember. There’s another employee too, and they look slightly incredulous. I can’t tell if they find it funny or think I’m stupid or both. At one point, someone was ridiculing me for something, and it irritated me enough that I considered bringing it up to someone higher up. Anyway, I attempt to make it right and start walking over to the man. There is a rush of people moving in both directions, causing me to lose sight of him. I reach the top of the incline on this skywalk so I can survey it all the way to the bottom, but he is nowhere to be found. I double back and still, nothing. I’m by an elevator now; it is closing, so I get the notion to jump into it while I can. Literally jumping forward into it, the doors brush me on each side before closing on my JCP key lanyard trailing behind me. I pull it out and turn around to be greeted by two Hispanic men. They both seem genial and good-natured, and they both seem to think my jumping into this elevator was somewhat funny if not unexpected. One of them is shorter and more portly; I think he has a mustache. I dryly say either “that was close” or “just barely made it.” They begin talking to me, slipping into Spanish. It is too fluent for me to understand most of it. I think on a different floor now, I see the door closing. It is closing on a chubby white family with a daughter. I don’t know why we haven’t let them on, so I am awkwardly diverting my glance. Doors closed now, we need to choose a floor. They tell me ‘tres’ and I go to press 3 but mistakenly press something else. I can’t entirely read the numbers on the round, silver buttons. For whatever reason, I end up just pressing all of them, the off white light illuminating behind each in succession downwards. I think the elevator is going to the highest floor first. It ascends, and part of the wall must be glass, because I can see what looks like the Atlantis casino outside the elevator. [As in looking into the Atlantis (from within) from the elevator, not as in looking out at the Atlantis]. I think the men now exit and I continue up one more floor. The doors open, revealing a floor that appears to be one huge hot tub. There’s a low ceiling and dim but colored (blue?) lighting that plays on what is either bubbles or an excess of foam. There’s an unassuming swim up bar, and I think a pool up above it. A young boy climbs up and over the bar counter to get to it. I don’t think I’m in the water, but I am conscious of its proximity to my clothes and my radio. I start to think about staying here and using the hot tub, imagining sneaking onto the hotel room floor to find a towel from a room being serviced or the service cart itself. I wonder if anyone at work would notice my prolonged absence, but figure it’s a large place so maybe not.