Good morning, everybody.
I had to go back to one of my old jobs for some reason or another, probably to pick up some kind of paperwork.
I had gone up an elevator and was now in one of the high-up floors of the building. I walked through a hallway that seemed to be an extension of the elevator bank. The hallway was kind of dim, with cherry-colored wood walls and grey floors. I could see that the hallway opened out to a wide office floor, which seemed to be mostly unlit by electric light, but pretty well lit by greyish natural light.
The hallway was filled with people, mostly young people, all bustling about. Amid these people, I saw my old boss, BS, walking into the bathroom. I thought I might say hi to him. But I reflected how he was always so reluctant to talk to me. So I didn't say anything. Nevertheless, he may have stopped in the threshold when he saw me. I may have waved to him quickly.
I was in a huge, empty room with some other guy, a kind of tall, muscular, young, white man wearing a t-shirt, khaki shorts, and a cap. We were both walking counter-clockwise around some cubic, concrete fixture in the floor. The fixture looked a bit like an altar. But it had an aluminum toilet seat and basin in its center.
As we walked around the altar-toilet, the man was talking to me about some religion. He gave some name that sounded like a mix between "Seventh Day Adventist" and "Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints." The man was making it sound like the people who practiced this religion were really bad, and like they were actually planning to do bad things.
But, I thought, people in generaly usually had a prejudice against people from this religion. At the same time, they also thought highly of people from this religion. Now the man was talking about how good the work ethic was for the people from this religion.
As the man spoke about this, I was cleaning off the toilet seat. It seemed like there was a lot of grime and hair on the seat. I was wiping it off with a piece of toilet paper. But I don't think I knew where to put the paper.
The man mentioned some kind of eating habit the religious people had. It had to do with only eating at a specific time on a specific day of the week. The rest of the day was devoted to work. But the man said you could always spot a lazy guy in this religion by the way he works and the way he eats.
The man seemed to be trying to disparage the whole religion with his comment. But after he'd gotten most of the way through his comment, he stopped himself and commented on how well most people in the religion stuck to this regular eating and working ritual.
Either I, I and some other man, or some man, was watching a news feed, either on TV or on a computer. An aircraft that was supposed to be an X-15 rocket, but which really looked like a black-and-yellow painted space shuttle, was getting ready to land.
The vehicle descended slowly through the blue sky. It landed on a faded tarmac strip. The landing seemed to go well. But the X-15 was damaged somehow, and everybody knew it was in danger.
The X-15 began skidding off to the left. It coasted off the tarmac, onto some grass, and finally stopped beside a chain-link fence. My view of all this was now from within the scene, as if I were floating above it in a helicopter.
Everybody was now thinking that the X-15 had been internally damaged and that it was going to explode. A crew of workers had come up to the X-15 to pull the crew members out of the vehicle before it exploded.
The X-15 now looked like a big Hummer or a big pick-up truck. The crew members were all crammed together in the front and back seats. They all looked like tourists in their fifties, kind of overweight, wearing nice jeans and shirts. They looked like they were all having a good, easygoing time, even though they were being pulled out of explosive wreckage.
Most of the flight crew and rescue crew had gotten away from the X-15. But now a different group of people came up to the vehicle. It was a group of old women, maybe in their sixties. They all thought this wreckage was a wonderful tourist attraction, and that they might sit around in it. By this time, the X-15 really just looked like a big, yellow, pick-up truck with no roof.
I saw the back end of the vehicle burst out with a jet of steam. I knew that the rest of the vehicle would probably now explode in a fireball. I may have seen one small, fiery explosion. But the old ladies didn't even seem to feel it. They were doing things like taking pictures of themselves on their phones.
Some guy was telling me how he thought some musical was only okay. I may have felt bad about this, because I may have been the one to introduce him to the movie of the musical.
The man said the musical all began well enough, but that by the end of the musical, everything about it seemed so shockingly racist. Plus, the actual quality of the drama and the songs just got cheaper and cheaper.
The man may have said that the turning point in the musical for him was the song "When You're a Jet." I then realized that the man was probably talking about the musical West Side Story. It surprised me that I'd introduced this musical to somebody, since I'd never been a really big fan of it.