I am in a loft, Jenny C.’s loft, apparently, & I need to stay there for the night—I have nowhere else to go. Jenny is annoyed that I need to stay & she only reluctantly agrees to have me as a guest.

In the open style kitchen I inquire about a pair of yellow boots that I’d recently lent her. She is weirdly indifferent to my thinking that I deserve them back. She opens a cupboard under her kitchen sink & tells me that the boots are in the cupboard—I can find them myself if I want them. I look inside. The cupboard is unrealistically stuffed with shoes & boots. Dozens upon dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs, are piled to the top of the cupboard, impossibly deep, bulging outward like a car toon. Really, it must be a magical cupboard, because no ordinary cupboard could hold that many shoes, yet I can see with my own eyes & somehow they all fit. With a bit of digging I can see par ts of the boots that I’m looking for, but just glimpses, & they are so far buried that it seems impossible that I’ll ever get them out, so I don’t try.

Later that night I’m pissing in the bathroom when Jenny barges in & angrily tells me, “That toilet is not for you.” She opens a pantry door, kind of camouflaged into the wall with paint, to reveal a second, slightly smaller toilet right next to the regular sized toilet I’d been using. This one is much more color ful. It has a transparent plastic seat with childish shapes of ducks & leaves set inside. The bowl & basin are painted bright, gaudy colors, like neon orange. I think it’s rude that Jenny interrupted me, but when she leaves I finish pissing in the smaller, more colorful toilet, like I’m told.