I was driving Somer around Portland, showing her houses.

I showed her one that i was sure was haunted. Vaguely Victorian, all spires and vaulted. Hard to describe, but the inside geometery was clearly defined by the outside. It gave my vertigo to look at it.

We left, and drove more.

Now dark.

I mentioned the haunted house, and she tells me it is a maze noe for Knots Scary farm. It's October and we are too poor to go. "Always poor in October."

I dropped her off and started walking. Found a coffee shop with diseffected hippie scenster hipster puck rockers. I didn't recognize any of them, but knew them. The coffee shop was a basement.

I want home and lived with punk rockers. I was the only one that was over 21 and I was scared of them.

Punk rocker: We're out of beer. We need more jugs.

Me: The place up the street cards.

Him: That's why you're going.

Me: But I'm going to bed.

Him: You're buying beer. And fruit. I need fruit.

Me: What kind of fruit?

Him: Egg McMuffin.