2019-08-29
I went to the building of my previous apartment, which was one floor higher than it is in real life.
I did not have the keys to that apartment or building, so I climbed a balcony to tap on the window and ask whoever lived there to let me reach the hallway.
Once in the hallway, I found that the apartment next to this stranger’s, which I thought was mine, was a complete mess, and none of my belongings were there. Instead of panicking, I ask myself if I just went to the wrong apartment, so I try to walk to the middle point of the hallway.
I found that I must have been on the wrong side of the building entirely, as I passed by two doors leading to two separate sets of stairs. Those looked like the ones of a school building I went to before.
I go further to find what should have been the actual door to my apartment, passing by another strange apartment with the door left open. The wall separating the apartment and the hallway was destroyed, replaced by some sort of white net. That apartment looked empty, unoccupied.
I finally reach my apartment, which was just as messy as the first one I visited, as if someone hurriedly moved all my stuff around to force me to put everything back where it belongs.
Some plastic drawers, which I did not have while I lived in that previous apartment, were next to a gray mattress, on the floor, close to the wall. That mattress looked dirty and was at an angle instead of just being placed against the wall.
In a corner of the room, I found a bunch of food items that should have been in a fridge, including some salami in a plastic box.
I then remember eating a meal with a neighbor on his balcony, allowing me to notice that almost all the buildings in the street were painted in a pale pink. We were in the shade during a sunny day.
I was standing in a Carrefour Contact shop. Those shops are supposed to be smaller than Carrefour City, but this specific store appeared to be both too large to be a Contact and too small to be a City, so it got me confused. The aisles appeared to be spaced apart too much for this to be a normal small store.
I was taking off my socks, with my hand on something near a customer service counter. First the left, then the right. A cashier working in the underwear section saw me and said something that sounded vaguely related to French grammar, perhaps “It’s a bijective disjunction!”
It turns out I had two pairs of socks on, one on top of the other, and I hadn’t noticed. I was wearing the first layer inside-out, and the second layer the normal way.
The cashier acted like a doctor, logging on the POS computer the “treatments” applied (removing a layer of socks) and recommending a follow-up appointment. She talked about a discussion related to a Falcon card (some kind of social security card apparently) that I will not have because I said I knew when I was hurting.
All of this occurred as a classmate from middle school, who was at the store with me so we could both buy slippers, asked me for my socks. Apparently, you need to have your socks off and hold them in one hand in order to buy slippers.
I told him about how I saved 40€ of my parents’ allowance each month by not taking the train anymore, and instead getting rides from other people by car when we had the same destination.