12

 On the ground, a tornado in the near distance, I'm running for cover behind a white clapboard farmhouse sitting on a hillside among thick green undergrowth and trees. Diving to the dark ground near the basement and hearing the roar of the winds all around me...
 I am at the Berkeley campus, I am going to an interview there for a job (or giving a job talk). I find myself in an odd, windowless trapezoidal classroom, no windows, low ceilings and rather large, with a lab bench and blackboard in the front. But the lab bench is a bar and the classroom seats are being used as an impromptu cafe. I look over the students and faculty, comparing myself to them; then walk away, at night, feeling lonely and morose...
 I look for a job bartending. Talking to someone about getting paid for the work, and they take $7.50 out of the register and fill out a chit for me to sign. I was expecting $10 and feel shortchanged. During all this I am aroused by a young woman who is sitting at tables, chatting with people. We briefly flirt - I get a raging hard-on - but then I lose interest...
 A large arena or diorama, dimly lit, that represents an ocean with warships steaming across it, maybe a naval battle. A large radar screen displays the ship models in reddish outline; visitors use the screen to sink the ships, as in a shooting gallery. But it isn't working right: the ship images blur into a confused pattern of shadows and blobs. The weapon aims awry and can't hit them. It's my fault or it's something I can't fix...
 I'm walking through a sunlit city street to a high, painted steel fence - steel bars set in concrete. Behind a gate in the fence is a descending stairway, the entrance to a subway or a bomb shelter. A group of blacks behind the fence, and one large black man in particular, won't let me in. I ask but they laugh and threaten me off. I retrace my steps to an enormous restaurant - hundreds of people, high ceilings, mirrors, chandeliers and dozens of rooms, loud talking and the clash of silver on china. I find the manager: youngish, sandy long hair, mustache, larger and stronger than me...
 We meet a black man, the manager's sidekick, young and strong like him, and we three return to the gate. It is open, everyone is gone: at the bottom of the concrete stairs is a smeared patch of dry blood and random trash. We scout the area, then the other two leave. I explore below ground when I encounter the black man who had tried to keep me out. We wrestle violently in the dark...