Dream Journal

It’s dark out. Rebecca and I and two others are going from club to club. There are a few along the street we’re on. We see a new one up ahead. The title is in big dark letter-symbols. We go in and sit at a table on the ground floor. It’s got a rustic, unfinished, but purposeful look, with a wooden floor. Upstairs is a dance floor. The menu has drinks and food. The cost is thus: the first three things for each person costs 75 cents total. The 4th thing costs 79 cents. The fifth is around $5.29. The 6th is $30. The 7th is $3,000. The 8th is $300,000. We joked with the waitress about the pricing, but I was wary. I knew this was a trap — that if you had 8 you’d end up working for them. I had three choices of drinks and food then went upstairs. While there I lost track of time and everyone I came with. I saw Jack Black and someone else famous, but they weren’t animated. I danced.. and blacked out. It felt like much later that I came back downstairs, and felt bad for leaving the others for so long. I was scared about how much I’d had, not being able to remember. It turns out it was only 5 total. Scary.