(no subject)

There was a big dinner party, or, more descriptively, SCA-style feast at Man Ray, only Man Ray was in a different location, somehow simultaneously in a rough neighborhood yet with its own small farm; also, the club was under new owners. I was there in a ridiculous outfit involving an over-large top hat. I was wandering around, trying to decide where I should sit. I chatted briefly with Vicissitude as he walked by with a pitcher of raw milk to add to people's coffee. He was complaining about one woman who was not fully participating in the co-op ownership of the club. "All she wants to do is take tickets at the door," he said. "But to work at this club, you also need to be ready to milk a few cows."

I woke up soon after that.