I was at a fast rood restaurant just outside of 270, without mycar. There had been an event near there, with people I knew(who I mostly didn't know in real life, although Charles was there).They had, however, all left, and I needed to figure out a way back tomy place. I got out my phone, and started calling around, leavingmessages on people's machines. Eventually, I left with someone Ididn't really know (calling back some of the ppl I called to tellthem not to bother). While on the way there, the person brieflyturned into Susan, and then after a few more changes, was somefairly attractive girl roughly my age. She took me to a mansionnear N. Broadway, and said that she had used to live there.There was a strange fuzziness to the air, and I somehow knewthat we were visiting an interaction to the past. The mansionwas very odd -- it had corkscrew-shaped shelves that would rotateup, holding lots of stuff and making it nicely accessible. Therooms were very large, and multilayered. I asked how much therent was. We walked from room to room, looking around. I hadto use the restroom, so she took me there, but I asked her toopen the bowl first, because for some technical reason, I feltthat, in this projection of the past, she had to see things beforeI did, or something odd might happen. Unfortunately, someone hadn'tflushed this toilet as much as it needed. On my second trip to therestroom, I heard her talking to someone, and she seemed to beindicating to them that she found me attractive. I presume it wasa current or ex-bf though, because shortly afterwards she soundedturned on by that person.
I don't remember what happened next, but I was back in my car,heading back to the campus area, with a carful of people. I wasalmost out of gas. I stopped at a gas station, and started tofill it up, but, although I didn't notice how wrong it was,the gas was supposed to go into a funnel-hose in a back opening intothe main part of the car. I put it in, but it kept leaking outthe other end. Eventually, I noticed that it was just leaking intothe body of the car, and, even though I looked around, I was unableto find where it was supposed to connect. I figured the car got somegas, so I got back in, started it up, and for a second, the gasmeter looked like it was almost full, but it swiftly dropped downto almost nothing. I grumbled, and decided to take it back to theFord mechanics.