#55: Part 2 of 3 “…[They] try to poke her with a white plastic stick”

A young woman knocks on the door of the room and asks if I know where to find “Martha (lastnamethatdoesn’tmakesense)”. I told her that Martha is on the 5th floor (while thinking to myself, “God, she must be a freshman, everyone knows that Martha is on the 5th floor”) and that she should take the elevator. I leave the room, turning around to tell two friends (the friend I kissed is gone) that I’m leaving and that I’ll be back. We walk down the hall (north) to where the elevator should be, but when we get there and turn to the left, there’s just a bigger room, a hallway of sorts with chairs and a big control panel on a pedestal that controls the elevator. It has the numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, and 7, apparently the only buttons for the elevator. I am more disturbed by the fact that there is no button for the 5th floor (I guess I don’t care about the 6th) than the fact that there is no elevator in sight.

I turn to the left in the big room, now facing east, and I see that there are chairs set up for a class, and behind the class are doors along the wall that lead to other rooms. I walk through the class (heading west) that is in session and go to the middle of the room and then I turn north and see a large set of stairs that only lead down, and there is no way to get up to the 5th floor (if it exists). These stairs are linoleum and have the bumps like at the edge of the BART platform on the ends of the stairs.

For some reason I don’t go down the stairs, I walk further along the room and come across a luncheon for older people (60+). At a table at the far end of the room, I go sit down next to someone with an omnisex name (one of a female friend’s friends from Knox (Editor’s note: I would provide a link, but there are nine Knox’s in the United States, none of which are in California), who I thought was going to be a girl because it seems that she told me about this friend many times…but it turns out he is a guy) and across from a random older man, who is sitting next to Michael Duncan, who is sitting across from a female friend. There are three other people at the end of the table, but they keep to themselves. At our end, we start asking Michael how he’s doing and where he’s going to school. In response to this inquiry, there is a small “Hello, My name is”-type name tag (where Michael’s water glass should be) that says UCSB in messy cursive. For some reason, we all pronounce this acronym as “Ucksub”.

An elderly palsied woman passes between our table and the one behind us, and I reach out to help her pass, but she instead bends down to pick up something from the floor. As she does so and I try to help steady her, but my male friend, Michael, and the random guy try to poke at her with a white plastic stick. I brush away their stick and she picks up whatever she needed and moves on.


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  • About DoPYWNM

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