so i was in debt to this fast food joint, and somehow i had been paying them in food, buying the food and giving it to the accounting department? and then i started to worry that they hadn’t been crediting my account, that they had just been finding greasy bags of food on their desks and eating them not knowing where they came from? so i went down to talk to them and in the waiting room (this was a really elaborate fast food joint, huh?), there was this big, pretty purple inflatable airplaine thingy saying ‘join the french foreign legion’ and flying back and forth across the room. i try to get pictures of it, which i don’t think will come out, and i’m thinking, you know, if i were less responsible, i’d just go join the legion and not worry about the hamburger bill. i decide to investigate. i go on a demonstration mission with them, we’re in flimsy boats in a stormy sea, and we manage to land on the beach. we have to return to the burger joint over this bridge with interesting lights, which i’m trying to take pictures of as we hike across, but my camera doesn’t have enough functions to get that kind of low light fancy stuff. on the other side there’s heavy traffic and these guys are running right across but i hesitate, feeling this feeling of urgency yet not being able to see enough of a clearing in traffic to make my way across.
finally returning to the burger joint, one of the accountants shows me last month’s trial balance, and sure enough some of my payments were received, but not all. it’s ok, i reason, since i’ve now realized how weird it is to pay a restaurant in their own food. the owner of the restaurant has a construction company, and he’s looking for painters. hey! i used to work for a painting contractor, maybe … no, i don’t know … and i wake up