Apparently I was living in a dormitory. When I awoke, Jon (my fellow law school classmate and friend) and I went to the shower room (which had five or six stalls). Since no one else was in the shower room, we concluded that we were late and that everyone else had already gone to a class being taught by professor Dohoney. We were in a hurry; Jon jumped into one shower while I jumped into another.

I had a tube of orange-colored shampoo which I pressed so hard the shampoo came out and filled up my whole hand. Since I had only needed a tiny bit, I began trying to put the excess shampoo back in the tube. I first squeezed the tube, then held the mouth of the tube to the shampoo in my hand. A suction was created and the shampoo was gradually sucked back into the tube. I continued doing this for what seemed an interminable time.

When I finally left the shower stall, Jon was shaving by the wash basin. He had a little round jar of green shampoo. Since I still had quite a bit of shampoo in my hand which I couldn't get back into the tube, I asked Jon if he wanted it. He said OK, and I squeezed the shampoo out of my hand into his jar. My orange shampoo stayed separate from his green shampoo in the jar; the two colors didn't mix together.

As I put the lid back on the jar, I noticed the price on the lid was $4.29.

I looked at myself in the mirror: I had forgotten to shave. Now it was too late: we had to go to class. We left.

Once outside, I was no longer with Jon, but with Kant Brito (a friend from the Dominican Republic whom I met in Puerto Rico in 1980). We were on a beach where a group of musicians was playing. One musician was an old man playing an instrument which was something like a cross between a guitar and a cello. About two meters long, it hung from a strap around the man's neck. It had two tiers of strings, one above the other. The man played while I stood listening.

Then another musician playing a guitar, but dressed like a policeman, jumped out from behind a stage.

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