I don't remember how I got wet, but my clothes are soaked, as if I fell into the ocean. I'm wearing jeans. I have no other clothes, as though I'm traveling or homeless, so I just have to wear them until they dry out.

I'm in what appears to be an inner-city neighborhood, and up the road I see a patch of sun warming a rock. I go up there to see if I can use the rock to dry out my clothes. I put several articles of clothing on the warm rock, notably a small lacy brassiere, but my pants are the main thing that needs drying and I have to keep them on.

I awaken in the morning in a hotel room, and notice that my jeans have dried out. I get up and start to pack my things, noticing a sign that says the checkout time is 9:30, but if you call downstairs you can take a late-checkout time of 10:30. I groggily check my watch, and it reads 10:48.

A heavyish woman comes in and relaxes on one of the two twin beds. I ask here if she's staying here today, and she says yes she is. She is the new occupant for the day, and she doesn't seem to mind that I'm not quite out yet.