rshort1202
Member

I am at a tap house or something similar, deciding between a few options. I either decide on a stout or the female bartender just pours one for me. It comes in a small looking glass, almost pitch black. I try it and it is pretty good, not amazing, but enough to remind me of my appreciation for stouts.

I am either at a concert or watching a video of a concert. I think I am at it, but it is like I started watching a video of it or saw a thumbnail of it on YouTube and then ended up at it. I had been looking through my Watch Later on YouTube, and it was full of Pink Floyd and Doors concerts. I noticed that I had also been watching videos of speeches or someone talking about different topics. This venue has the feel of a warehouse or hangar, airy and dim. The stage and seating riser are long. The Doors are performing, and it sounds like they, and especially Jim, are on top of their game. Jim is animated and fiery. I am now seeing a panorama of the crowd, from the stage, at about stage level. They seem to all be standing and very animated as well. I notice a diversity in skin color. The fashion seems wildly eclectic, possibly 60s, but almost hyperbolically so. There seems to be a good ratio of women to men, many women carelessly or ecstatically topless. The shot pans and lingers on a black man and white woman amid the crowd, the woman’s pants unbuttoned and the man casually rubbing her over her underwear. They’re standing straight and next to each other, so undetected by only the camera. I find some humor in the shot’s slight lingering on this candid exposure of the moment. I now have to use the restroom and end up finding a unisex? bathroom at the end of a hallway. The hallway is slightly ornate, as if in a theater or old house. I think a woman comes out right before I go in, possibly saying something to me. In the bathroom, there is a toilet against the wall and then a ramp up to what looks like a stall. I go into the stall, only to find that the door swings into a position that leaves about a foot long gap. I go back down to the toilet and stand to use it instead. I think it is too low and I aim too high, accidentally hitting the wall at first.

I think I am at work, maybe in the mall? There is a lady at a kiosk or shop with whom I’ve gotten into some kind of verbal altercation. I think it is not unjustified. I am saying something about how it’s the worst service I’ve ever received. I think I’m now in some sort of trouble for what I’ve said and/or done, and I have to leave. I’m with Laynie now, and this place looks and seems more like an elementary school. I am not going to leave, and I think she’s aiding me in not getting caught. It is dark out, and I think we’re attempting to stay in here for the night. There is a group of people who I think are walking around, checking for anyone still remaining. Laynie tells me to hurry, and we run out to my? parked car on what looks like the driveway outside of the old 695 house. I unlock it with the remote on my keys and we climb in, her up front and me in the backseat. I lie down and sort of cover myself with blankets. I think it’d still look like a person if they looked in, but hope it’s too dark to see that well. At one point I am in the front yard, and it seems very overgrown, but with pretty flowers and grasses.

I’m with Laynie, and it’s like we’re at work, but right now we are on a street corner. There is a video monitor up on a pole, and I’m trying to pull back video on it. It ends up stopping on just someone’s feet, which we think is kind of funny. I briefly ponder the implications of leaving our recorded video playing for everyone to see. I think it’d be beneficial, but there’s no doubt someone would be offended. I now try to log out, pressing control, alt, and delete. We now cross the street and I see, on the other side of the street, a building that must be our work. It looks low and long, a glossy dark navy/grey, and more organic than not. I notice a sketchy seeming black lady who I think just got dropped off. She hesitates and then enters the building. I look over to Laynie, but she’s noticed her also. We enter the building but stall for a minute so as to give her just a little space initially. We’ve gone to the right and into a room that has a long, grey, ovular table (it may actually be a horseshoe shape, with empty space in the middle) with two men sitting towards the end. There is another video monitor, which I tap with a pen or something, just pretending to be doing something on it. The man seated facing more towards it sees this and chuckles, saying “kids.” I just laugh along with him and his limited perception, his not knowing what we’re really doing. We now enter the Sephora here and see the girl pretty much right away. She notices us also. We are not even near her or overtly watching her when she ends up by us, saying that she feels like she’s being watched. I reply quite lengthily, telling her that there are plenty of other people in here shopping that don’t feel like they’re being watched. I also tell her that I’ve been watched before while shopping but still bought what I was looking for, though I’m not sure that’s actually happened to me. She seems to understand, but still leaves without buying anything. I see her meet up with a white girl who also has a black purse. There is a sort of hallway or foyer between the Sephora and the glass doors to the outside. There’s then a small bit of pavement before a large, lush lawn. At the end of the pavement, they each throw a pair of shoes or sandals into a trashcan. I notice they’re both still wearing sandals, so I think they must’ve switched into new ones. I linger in the foyer and notice a black car parked in the shade of some trees near the top of the sloping lawn. The girls double back, but so have I, so that they see me walking past, but not overly suspiciously so.

I am inside what feels like a gas station, kind of like a Maverick. There is a rolling grill containing the typical gas station hot dogs. I look at the two or three different types and their prices. There is a good price for three of them, so I think I’ll do that. I sort of self consciously think about what I’d look like carrying around three hot dogs with toppings. I now put two each on their own stale looking bun. There’s a fluid that runs off onto the bun; they look terribly under done, but still I keep them. Now, Caitie comes out of nowhere and, apparently working here, asks to see my ID. I’m not sure if she’s joking or not but, as we walk up to the counter, find out that she isn’t. I pull out my ID and give it to her, noticing how long this blue counter is. We talk for a bit and I think she’s really scrutinizing the ID.