Wednesday, September 18, 2002

Messy

Brooke is trying to find a parking space is a dark lot. It has a college feel. She pulls around the lot and drives over a curb to get in a space. There is a building in the middle of the lot and on the opposite side is a small group of people. Brooke and I join the group under the awning they stand under. A maintenance man is repairing the aluminum structure of the awning. I notice it buckling or tearing and wonder if everyone is in danger if it collapses. But no one looks concerned and I forget about it as Brooke and I leave the group. Brooke then tells the maintenance man that he needs to fix something else and get a memorial built over her. He dismisses her. Brooke huffs away very upset. Seeing this, the man tries to find out how he can help. But Brooke is already walking away, she is too upset to respond to my calls to her. The maintenance man asks what denomination we are. I reply Judaism and he tells me a phone number. It is some numbers and the word guilt followed by more numbers. (something like 010-GUILT-22) He says it is the number of the counselor or someone in charge of that department.

I have just moved into a huge apartment. It seems to be one giant room that has a series of rooms built into out of plywood. There are also random structures made of the same wood for example a palm tree. I follow two guys (my new roommates) running through it. We crawl through tunnels and up ladders. There are toys and junk all over the floors and the kitchen is littered with beer bottles on every surface. We end up sitting on the second floor overlooking all the way down to the first. The ceiling is huge. The walls are decorated with balloons and posters. One giant one reads, “All you need is” and a bigger one below it says “Love.”

I show up to work in a kitchen as a dishwasher, but I am wearing slacks. I roll up the sleeves of the thick dress shirt I am wearing and survey the place. It is a mess. There are dishes and food stacked everywhere. My Kenneth Cole shoes with the worn soles are sliding through a layer of grease and slime on the floor.

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