I'm in a restaurant, or not restaurant, seems to be more of a hair salon, very fashionable, I've just got this job and I'm not sure exactly what I'm supposed to be doing...the back of the salon, behind walls that reach up only partway to the ceiling, is black, the front is too brightly lit, outside it's night...
In the front there sit a couple of well dressed elderly puppets, grotesque features, expensive suits and jewelry, they make it known by signs they don't need service...there's a box on the floor in which a puppet maitre-d has popped his head out, he's making inane puppet conversation, I go over to talk to him, see if I can't find out what precisely I'm doing him, he keeps his puppet head to me at all times, I can see his handler's lycra clad body working it's way around the box on all fours, crab like, he doesn't want me to see him, instead keeping the puppet facing me at all times, this is proving fruitless...
OJ Simpson walks into the bar, looks at me, turns left and plops himself into a barbers chair.
"I owe you big time" he tells me, and pulls from his pocket a big bag of pixie dust which he empties into a little ceramic tray filled with beads and buttons... It looks like OJ, only I know I don't know OJ, wouldn't know OJ, must be someone else, he's big and black and he sure looks like OJ and I'm trying to figure out who he is and where I know him from, a pro athlete, obviously, he's not paying me any attention...
Pointing to the pixie dust, "You want a lot or a little?" he asks me, I politely decline, he pshaws and tells me I have to have some..."Just a pinch" I tell him.
He leans back in the barbers chair and does a big snort, then exhales through his mouth, pursed lips, he indicates it's my turn, only now the tray is empty, and I'm rifling through the beads and buttons, I find a small shriveled pea pod, I try to use this to scoop up the few remaining grains, there's not enough, nothing left, OJ's staring at me with a curious look of puzzlement and disdain....