My impatience was getting the best of me. A party had been scheduled for all the employees (there must have been 50 of us) at my place of work. Excitement was in the air, and people had begun gathering in one of the spacious but dreary rooms (the walls appeared to be made of gray concrete blocks, like a basement, with no windows). My heightened anticipation was piqued not so much by thoughts of the party itself, but by what was going to be provided at the party: marijuana. It was my understanding that an ample supply of pot would be provided for all the employees. I could hardly wait, and again and again I asked if the pot had arrived yet, or when was it coming.

And finally it happened – a healthy-sized compressed brick of pot, about the size of a shoe-box, was brought in and placed on a table in the middle of the room. As the other employees gathered around, I thought about pulling off a small chunk of the pot and eating it. I was sure it would taste as sweet and pleasing as a piece of candy. But I restrained myself, deciding I could wait just a little longer until the smoking began.

What I hadn't realized was that I would have to stand in line to receive my share of the pot — and the line already stretched around the perimeter of the room! There must have been 50 or more people in the stagnant line, leaning against the wall and waiting for their dole of dope. All were dressed casually (almost carelessly) and — to my surprise — all appeared quite young, no one more than 25 years old. I hadn't expected so many. It had been my understanding that the people who didn't want to smoke any pot would go into the adjoining room, and that the people who did want to smoke would remain in this room, but now it looked as if all the employees were in this room. Finally I asked someone how many people had decided not to smoke any pot and go to the adjacent room. I was stunned by the answer: none.

Even more stunning was the sudden change of my frame of mind — I positively did not want to smoke any marijuana. Not only had the thought of smoking lost all allure to me, I dreaded the idea. There was no definite explanation, no specific cause of my sudden change of attitude — I only knew I definitely didn't want to get high. I wanted to go into the next room which was reserved for the people who didn't want to smoke. However I felt embarrassed. After all, I had been the one who had been asking over and over about when the pot was going to arrive. Surely everyone was going to expect me to be smoking as much as I could. How could I just go alone to the other room?

Finally, a solution seemed to naturally present itself. I definitely wasn't going to smoke any pot. With almost no necessity of thought, I left the room. But it wasn't my intention to simply go to the other room and stay there by myself. I had decided that even if I wasn't going to drug myself, I was still going to take part in the party, and perhaps maybe even enliven it somewhat. I quickly returned to the party room, this time lugging in about 20 large boxes — all containing toys.

I quickly set about opening the boxes. Each box contained a remote-controlled battery-operated toy. Most toys were in the nature of robots or monsters, some quite large. One robot — somewhat similar to the robot on the old television series "Lost in Space" — was almost as tall as I. I set it in motion and watched it roll around the room, finally heading toward the door of the next room. It was my intention to simply set the toys in motion around the room — hopefully other people would take an interest and start playing with them.

I opened another box which contained three robots about the size of children's action figure. One olivaceous-skinned robot was a replica of Frankenstein. Another of the small robots looked like a space alien of the Close Encounters of the Third Kind variety — creamy white skin, bald head, and long slender arms. However, I noticed this particular alien-robot seemed to have a defect — its legs were missing. Where one leg should have been, a long white bone protruded from the hip. Turning the robot over in my hand, I finally concluded that it had been built that way on purpose, and that it was designed to move across the floor in a sliding motion, without any legs.

When I opened another toy, I couldn't figure out what it was at first. It simply looked like a little black box about a half meter long. When I set the box on the floor and turned on the remote, the box began moving across the floor like a little car. It seemed to change shape before my eyes, and finally it split into three different parts, each part continuing to whirl around the room like an automatic vehicle. Each time one of the little vehicles would hit a wall or an obstacle, it would automatically back up, turn around and head in the other direction. It was quite fascinating to watch.

I was glad to see that some other people finally did become interested in the toys. One young boy (not more than 12 years old) took control of the three little vehicles. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. Meanwhile I kept unpacking and putting batteries into the remote controls. Finally I began running out of batteries, and I had to take the batteries out of the toys which I had opened first, so I could check out the new toys. Once, when I put the batteries into one of the remote controls, the device actually began to expand in my hand, and I thought it might explode, but it turned out that the remote was just powering up.

I had ended up enjoying the toys so much, I decided when the party was over, I wanted to pack the toys up and keep them. Originally I had been unconcerned about the toys, and I had thought I would simply leave them behind. It seemed as if this building were owned by my father (who seemed to be in the background, watching the party), and as if I therefore could just leave the toys there. But now I was worried that if I left the toys there, they might become lost or broken. It would be better to pick them all up at the end of the party. I thought I should also keep the colorful boxes, replacing each toy in its appropriate box.

I just hoped I could find everything. I knelt down on my knees and began picking up some pieces of the toys lying on the floor. At the same time I noticed another box of old toys which I used to play with and had left there. I thought I should pick those toys up and also put them in order. As I began doing so, I recalled I had recently had a dream in which I had been in the apartment of Jerry Seinfeld and I had been doing something similar to this — picking up toys. It seemed strange that I would have had a dream about picking up toys, and that now I was doing almost the exact same thing.

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