I am at this place where I had been working when I was paying for school about 11-12+ years ago. I needed a letter of recommendation for something so I approached my supervisor -- which was actually a sup. from a different job that I had at a later time.

He is a tall black man, with a square head, high forehead and small ears. He seemed happy to see me and was happy to write the letter for me. He said "Hang out and catch up with these guys, I'll bring it out to you." I am walking around this one story building, which now seems to be set up like a kinko's. The workers smiled and nodded when we made eye contact, but otherwise said nothing to me. I wandered around among the shelves and picked up numerous items -- only to set them back down. I wondered how long he would keep me waiting.

A few minutes later he approaches me - I am now sitting at the far end of large oval table in some kind conference room. He hands me the letter. The stationery was of course on nice paper, and had been printed on a color printer [probably laser].

On the left side, there was a picture of two men, naked and embracing each other, that took up about a sixth of the page lengthwise and resembled Renaissance style artwork. At the top it said TVGBM in large block letters, not unlike the "Men In Black" logo for the movie. Underneath it said "Tualatin Valley Gay Black Men in a copperplate font. He stood quietly waiting for my response to the letter.

I am just wondering how I could possibly even make use of it, but I don't remember what I needed the letter for. I certainly didn't fit the criteria for his organization, being Hispanic-American/Irish -- and straight. I decide to skip being judgmental or trying to analyze the letterhead and read the letter. [I don't remember what the letter said other than I think it was a letter of recommendation for a higher-level job where I currently work.]

I put the letter in a briefcase [I don't own a briefcase] and thank him and leave. My girlfriend is outside in her car, [which in my dream was a 1967 or '68 Corvette convertible]? And I jump over the side of the door and shove the briefcase under the front seat.

We are driving along the coastline -- only I don't know which coast? -- it looked like a cross between Oregon and Florida. We were now in some out of the way neighborhood like you would see in the suburbs and the houses were expansive and pretty amazing. We were making comments on different homes.

Suddenly we are parked next to this glass and wooden building that is raised on cinderblocks, maybe just high enough for a small child or large dog to walk under. It had a black metal staircase that zigzagged its way up and seemed to never end. [similar to a fire escape on a large apartment building]. It was three or four stories high and had several large windows that were nearly floor to ceiling.

We discussed what it might be and how high up the stairs might go. She suggests we just go inside. I agree, knowing it is wrong and having conflicting feelings about just entering the building since we don't know who it belongs to or what it is used for.

We enter through a small door, but to get to it we had to climb two flights of stairs. There were two levels above that, the top being the roof. We obviously didn't think there was anything strange about "front door" being on the second level of the building. We go through the door which was unlocked, and enter a large loft style living room. The furniture looked like an Ikea showroom collection. Modular. Everywhere.

The room was partially carpeted, and partially I think it was a highly polished concrete. The primary seating arrangement was not far from the front door and consisted of a sofa, two very large chairs [like at pottery barn] and a few end tables. The kitchen area was beyond that and was mostly stainless steel. There was no kitchen table, only the island countertop with barstools around two of the sides.

Beyond the seating area and kitchen there was a narrow corridor. We walk down the hall, and there was a small, messy bedroom with a twin bed [mattresses on the floor no bed frame] with many, many pillows. A young pretty woman with strawberry blonde hair pulled back into a bun [?] was sleeping. She had pale skin and very red lips. We walk past her room to the bathrooom which was narrow and had a long counter, with two sinks on the right side and white built in shelving on the left. at the end of the counters on the left was a toilet and the tub was on the far end wall. It took up the entire width of the back wall, which I think made the room [I guess] about 7 feet across and 20-30 feet long.

We made our way back to the stairs and discuss if we want to go up or down the stairs. Then we hear somebody moving around on the level above us.

"Shh!" I said.

"Just say 'yes?' like you are not sure if whoever it is said something to you like you didn't hear them," my girlfriend said.

I called out towards the upper level, saying either Hello? or Is anybody there? or something to that effect. We start walking up the stairs and when we were half way to the top, a dark haired woman came to the top of the stairs, lugging a heavy cainsiter vacuum cleaner. She greeted us and was very friendly but appeared to not understand or speak much english. She handed me a key and made a locking gesture with her hands as she said, "key. lock - lock door." and then she left. I put the key in my shirt pocket, and decided we should probably leave.

On our way back down the stairs, my shoulder hits some type of wall sconce and knocks a small, lit candle to the carpeted step, which caught fire. I quickly beat the fire out with my hand and told my girlfriend to get my water bottle from my briefcase. [I think I was going to saturate the carpet]. She looks around and grabs a can of spice [cayanne pepper] and dumps the whole can on the spot where the fire had been. I start to pat it into the carpet, knowing that cayanne pepper did not have the same smothering qualities that baking soda has, but attempting to make the best of the situation.

What woke me up was the burning sensation around my fingernails that you get when you deal with spices.

19 July 2001