• 26th
  • December
  • 2011
I was on tour checking into a hotel. It was a highrise. I had a bag, it was a suitcase, doesn’t matter what kind of suitcase. I got into the elevator and you couldn’t simply push the floor, you needed some sort of code, there were all these weird symbols. Other people were getting it but I couldn’t figure out how to punch my code and so it kept going up until I ended up on the very top floor where there was a sort of high-end restaurant lounge where a number of things were happening… drinks were being served, someone was getting a massage…i left my bag and shoes in the foyer to take a look and when I got back my bag was gone. I spent a lot of time looking for the bag, with the staff’s help. They were helpful…very servile, and eventually found my bag in a concierge closet or something. I asked someone to come help me punch out the elevator code for my room and when I looked at my shoes where I had left them next to the elevator, somebody had shit in my shoes. Parse that.
My dad had a dream last night and let me type it out. -Z
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