An oval metal elevator. We have to slide in like getting into a car through the window. It's crowded, with Tyler and me and lots of others. It tips and starts to malfunction. I feel scared. It is dark. I pray we make it to the floor level. We do, just barely. We get out and go to get lunch (or breakfast). I sit at a table. Chuck complains. I say, "How predictable you are, Chuck." A waitress comes up to take my order. I say, "This is new," and order deviled eggs and other things.