Was on a trip somewhere - in a parking garage that was also a line for a voting booth. I got on the other lane, drove down and parked the giant black SUV that I was driving. I got my bike and I was looking for a bike rack when some guy who was very attractive and KNEW it came up to me and stuck a wad of cat fur on my back, angrily telling me that I shouldn't have gotten it on him. I angrily pointed out that it wasn't even my cat's color fur and proceeded to go off on him. He was taken aback because he's Mr. Good Looking and he Always Gets His Way™

I couldn't figure out where the builtin bike rack ewas, so I went inside.
I was in a pitch black closet with Malcolm X, trying to light the last cigarette using the last match in the book. I finally got it lit and handed it off to Malcolm, who took a drag and smiled a bitter smile. I knew how hard he had worked to quit, so I felt bad for him. There was a dark and ominous feeling, like I was trying to ignore the really bad things that wanted to hurt us.