C and I were cops, Reno-911 style. Went to a crackhouse to make sure they were smoking crack with a license. All was cool, we were making sure they didn't freak out at our arrival. They had like 50 bongs and pipes of various types, and everyone had brought Legos and dumped their collections together in a pile. I made the mistake of pointing out that they weren't really going to be able to separate them back into their personal collections very easily and they got very upset, uh oh, upset in that way that only Really High people get upset. I suggested the only thing to do was probably to redistribute the collections evenly among them, round-robin style-- each person picks one piece, then each person picks another, etc. and they wanted us to do it for them. So we faked that we were getting an emergency call out on our car radio and we left.
Then we went to a mall. Santa was there, but it was a Santa only for grown-ups to sit on his lap. Actually, it was just grown-up hot women. C did not want to sit on Santa's lap, tho. We went to a bookstore and I looked up some travel books in their card catalog. It was more like a library but you bought the books to keep. They had books tucked away in every corner, in nooks and crannies and stacked three rows deep, which made finding stuff hard. Even worse, they had books filling back in low, tight spaces behind the walls and shelves, like in air ducts and stuff, so you had to crawl back into claustrophobic, dusty and moldy spaces for some stuff, and there was one book I wanted to see if they still had but to do so I would have to squeeze into a long, short space and go way back into it. I kept going outside, giving up, then going back in and eyeing the space, over and over, before finally taking off my jacket and climbing on in...