I was riding on a very brightly lit bus through a dark and rainy urban landscape. I was overhearing some discussion about how the black community wanted to have their own buses. Whoever ran the buses--the city or some company--refused to do so not because of an ethical objection, but because they claimed there would be complaints that the bus for black people wasn't as good or as well maintained and they wanted to avoid such controversy.
At some point I decided to get off the bus and was walking down a grungy street which seemed to have several homeless people wandering about. A bag lady walked along and acknowledged me.
bag lady: "Hey sonny, you need to know the word... the word, know what the word is?"
me: "No, what is the word?"
bag lady: (sudden voice change) "ROMANOV"
me: "That's what I thought, confirms my suspicions. Romanov. Romanov. Gotta remember Romanov."
As is often the case with such things or feelings, I have no clue why that would be familiar or why I would care, but on the outside chance it's important I write such things down here.
She walked off down the wet, dark black asphalt. I saw a lot of discarded items, heaps of clothes and things, and some dollar bills. I leaned in to look at the money, but decided I wasn't interested in grabbing a few wet dollars off the ground in such an environment. Another man standing with me urged me to move away. Several moustached police offers with white shirts stepped forward at us, looking menacing.
police: "We're dealing with a situation here, it's very dangerous. We can't have people like you nosing in and screwing it up."
The police grumbled as I the man and I walked off.
man: "This Romanov, very suspicious guy. He was always around, trying to take the Asians out to dinner, some sort of meeting. We've got a location. Intersection of 1st South East and West Nutella."
me: "Okay, first... south... east, west, wait. First South East and West Nutella..."
I had several false awakenings, through writing down this intersection and Romanov details.
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