I'm walking with somebody, I think ex-date Susan, along a street as if in SE Portland. I think she wants me to go home and go to bed with her, but I don't want to.

We stop at a building, where there is something going on, and go in to see what is up. There's a big room divided by a chain link fence, and Ron Howard is taking tickets, letting people in. I edge forward to the gate, and ask what's up, and how to get in. Ron tells me that it is a memorial event for my childhood acquaintance (and sometimes girlfriend) C. Kelsey, who has apparently passed away. But he won't tell me where to get tickets, except that you can't them here. Instead he tries to sell me on some other event that's coming up in a few days.

I think that in some sense I should go to the memorial, but I'm not sure, I don't know any of these people, and nobody would probably notice if I weren't there. The tickets are also ridiculously expensive.

My date and I start to leave. On the way out, we see a few huge black girls get out of a car to come to the memorial. They are all done up in extreme fashion, with monstrously huge, sculpted hair.