A dream from this spring:

This spring, I dreamnt:

I’m doing all of my laundry completely in the basement laundry area in the basement of the front house and so I'm nude while I'm doing it because I have to wash all of the clothes that I"m in, too, and while I'm in the middle of this I realize that there’s all these black socks left in the bottom of the huge white-and-blue canvas laundry bag, and as I’m pulling them out to put in the washer, I hear voices, and so I quickly pull the bag over me to cover myself as the one (big personality) (redheaded) (Irish-American) owner and the one (quiet) (introverted) (tatted) (white) manager walk by and glance over at me, confused, like why am I there, nude.

. . .

(. . .)

(I like never have nudity dreams.)

Two events, one day…

…at the (Irish-y) burger joint in the first floor of a historic hotel that I now work at:

1) A(n old) (white) lady says her grilled chicken breast is too tough and that her knife doesn’t cut well and when she tries to cut it her tray shakes.

2) My one (blonde) (make-upped) (college-age) coworker’s (young) (tight-bodied) dad is in to see where she works one more time before she transfers schools and leaves next month, and as I pass through “the server alley” my one (make-upped) (Eastern European last-named) (master’s student) coworker is “girl talking” with my one (younger) (plumpish) (hair streak-dyed) (mid-Southern) waitress coworker and she’s whispering that he doesn’t look like her dad, he looks like her boyfriend or brother, and I hear the word “hot,” too, as I pass by, it's like everyone wants the hot dad.

Some ribbing…

…to my one (half Asian) (just-graduated-college) coworker, when I see him at a coffee shop where I’m postering for an event:

“So unfaithful!”, I’m like, and he’s confused at first, and then is like, “Because I have a job here?”

. . .

(Like a week-and-a-half later, I realize that I don't see him anymore at the one [Irish-y] burger joint in the first floor of a historic hotel, and I realize that I must have just randomly showed up at his new job and ribbed him, thinking it was a second job, and not a job that he quit us for.)

Some pickiness and confusion from all of the different people at a large (South Asian from South Asia) table...

 ..at the one (Irish-y) burger joint in the first floor of a historic hotel, where I work now:

- Says to bring out water, then water is brought and decides on no ice.

- Says wants all vegetable toppings, then says no tomato, next says all 3 sauces, then says just mayo.

- Request to substitute special salad from different entrée, then nixes that idea.

- Special request for grilled onions, not raw.

. . .

($6 tip on a $60 bill – not bad.)

Questions and theories (2 of 2): Killer.

The one (young) (heavyset) (blonde) artist who I know from around town was telling me that her (Brazilian) (soon-to-be ex-) husband was in town like his second week here and was drinking vast amounts of "garage beer” IPA on a third floor open balcony that went along the sides of apartments between stairwells, the kind of walkway that you have where you enter the individual apartments from it, and he was out there with people when he fell off, and he swears it felt like someone pushed him.

And, he fell like a story-and-a-half onto some bikes that were all chained up onto a bike rack, and somehow he was sore and able to get up and walk home, and he never filed a police report, nor was he seriously hurt, somehow.

Only later did they find out that this notorious local guy who later abducted a woman and killed her lived there at the same time, like two apartments down from where he was.

Now, he thinks he got pushed.

Questions and theories (1 of 2): Rapist.

The one (young) (heavyset) (blonde) artist who I know from around town was telling me about a rural town in the state where she grew up, where one of her friend’s dads who was a cop turned out to be a serial rapist, and it destroyed their family and like her friend’s brother ended up becoming a heroin addict.

She says that she read a lot of the court transcripts as part of therapy, and one victim swears she heard a conversation that her rapist had in the hallway with someone during the course of the rape, so she’s always wondered whether he really acted alone, or was there someone else involved, as she’s told her therapist many, many times.

More fluctuation in recent homelessness, as of this spring:

1) As I enter the local library near downtown a few blocks from where I live, there’s a couple policeman and EMTs in the foyer by the restrooms standing around talking, and they’re saying something about how he’s gone now, but one of them had seen him nearby recently at some other place, and they’re having this very serious conversation about that as I pass through their midst and go into the library to take care of my library business.

2) As I go to the local brewery, there’s a tent in the small city park right by there and like 3 men out by it, though to be fair, I only see it that once, and then never again.