I'm in my parents' kitchen, around the chopping block. Minda is serving some cake and I take a piece, but when I take a bite I can taste that it is full of alcohol, which makes me wary. I drank a little too much last night, and apparently lost an hour or two. I don't want to be drunk, I have to go get some laces for my boots, and I have to go home first and get the existing laces in order to get the right length.

I go over to the sink, where grandma (in a wheelchair) tries to get some water from the tap, filling a cassette tape. I sort of butt in, thinking that I can fill my bottle real quick, but it's not that easy. The faucet spout goes way up to about head level and then bends, and it's got some awkward outlet that makes it squirt all over, and I create quite a bit of a shower before getting the position right and filling my bottle.