Steve Buckner and I had gone to a club which had a large dance floor in the middle. We sat down at a small wooden table and talked for a while. Finally, I realized a man was sitting behind me on an elevated bench. His knees were on both sides of me and were touching me. Realizing I was hemmed in, I said to Steve, "Look, let's just move this table up."

We stood, pushed the table more to the center of the floor, then sat back down. A waitress walked up and asked us if we wanted anything. I said, "No," but Steve ordered a cup of coffee.

I had two books with me which I had laid on the table in front of me. One blue book (which resembled my law text book on secured transactions) said "Marketing." The other book was written in Spanish. The first four letters of the title were "Mark ...."

Steve and I sat for quite a while watching people dance on the dance floor. They seemed to be doing an intricate dance which I did not know how to do. It was not a waltz, but similar. I wanted them to do something I knew, such as country dancing or rock and roll. Steve said the dance was the "hustle." I did not know what the hustle was, although I had heard of it.

After the waitress had brought Steve his coffee and he had drunk it, he decided he was going to dance. He stood and walked to the dance floor, but I could not see whom he had asked to dance.

The waitress came back and filled up Steve's cup, but instead of with coffee, she filled it with warm milk. I was hungry, and the milk looked so good, I took a drink of it. I set the cup back down.

A woman (about 40 years old) walked up to me on my right. Our table was right next to the dance floor. She asked me if I wanted to dance. Without even looking up to her, I said, "No." Wondering what she looked like, as she walked away, I looked up at her. She was rather small and unattractive. She was wearing a red dress. I watched her walk out onto the dance floor. Apparently, she did not know how to do the dance either. So she stood behind someone and followed the steps of the person in front of her. I thought, "That's not a bad idea. If I wanted to learn the dance, I could get out there and do that, too."

Steve returned to the table and sat down. I thought he could tell that I had taken a drink of his milk, but he did not seem upset about it. The waitress returned again, and I ordered a glass of milk.

Another woman walked up to the table and commented on the books. She asked me if I knew what was in the blue book which said "Marketing." I said, "I really haven't read anything in it."

That was the truth, because I had started reading it yet.

Steve and I began watching the dancers again. The couples were going in circles. Some women were wearing pretty dresses. I thought the dance was so pretty that I might have to learn how to do it.

Finally, Steve and I left. In either that building or a nearby building we had a hotel room. The room was the last room at the end of a hall. We walked into our room. After we were inside, I realized someone was following us. I heard a noise in the adjoining room and I thought the noise might be from the person following us. I opened the door of our room and walked into the hall. The door of the adjoining room was open. As soon as I tried to look inside, someone slammed the door in my face. I ran back into my room; there was a window between our room and the adjoining room. The window had metal bars on it and curtains on both sides.

I pulled back the curtains on our side; the curtains on the other side had also been pulled back. I said to Steve, "They're over there. They're spying on us."

I ran back into the hall. The door to the adjoining room was open. I looked in and saw a man and woman inside. They came out into the hall and I confronted them. The woman and I began having a terrible argument. She began screaming at me. I said, "Well, you've committed assault now."

She grabbed my arms. I said, "Now it's a battery. I'm going to call the police."

I was serious. I was definitely going to call the police. I thought by touching me, she had committed battery. I was not going to let her get away with that. When I walked over to a phone in the hall, the woman came up to me. Now she began to look worried. I held the phone up and before dialing, I said, "Look, if you don't touch me again, I won't call the police. Just don't touch me. I don't want you to touch me."

She backed away and said, "All right."

I walked back into our room, talked to Steve for a moment, and learned that he had given the man in the other room a gun which Steve had had. I thought, "How stupid that he would have given that man that gun."

Steve had had a small hand gun. The man had talked with Steve earlier and had asked to borrow the gun. Steve had then given the gun to the man. I thought that was the stupidest thing in the world.

I walked back into the hall. The man was still there. I demanded that he give me the gun. He was docile and simply handed the gun over to me. I walked back into our room and left the man in the hall. I walked over to a couch which was against the wall and pulled the couch out from the wall. Along the edge of the wall next to the floor was a space where I thought about putting the gun. I was concerned that maybe the police would come, especially after what had happened in the hall when I had threatened to call them. I was afraid if the police came, they would arrest me for having the gun. So I wanted to do something with it.

I felt along the wall trying to find a place big enough for the gun to fit, but I could not find it. I did find a heat register and I was able to stick the gun under it. I was then able to cover it with a flap of carpeting.

I looked up; the man was watching me. Since he had seen where I had put the gun, I pulled the gun back out and stuck it in my pocket.