I'm standing by a large swimming pool. There are dozens of naked young women swimming in it, hanging around the sides, etc. But all are skinny-dipping. It turns out it's not just girls, because this is an experimental school run by a guy that looks like George Carlin. He says he didn't tell them to do anything: he just provided the pool and most of them (not all) just swam without clothes. After a confused part, most of the people are gone, and now I'm hanging around the pool with Andy, Melanie, the mousy blonde girl from Hillside Market, and a few other people. The women and a couple guys are now swimming around au naturel. Something happens regarding the house nearby; at any rate, it's time for people to sleep. Everybody got sleep but me, because while I'm sleeping, this hick guy and his dogs (everyone knows him) comes along and needs a place to stay. But actually this paragraph isn't right: I don't remember why I don't sleep. At the end, everybody is hanging out, discussing this problem in the main room, and I mention to Jimmy the fact I got no sleep. He says something cryptic: "Well, at least you got the *Calypso*!" and raises his eyebrows, looks around conspiratorially, and rubs his hands. Apparently he's referring to the nude girls. I'm not amused. I think, I could have done without the naked girls; I needed sleep. I could have *dreamed* them. I particularly remember having this last thought. Another fragment of this dream I cannot place, besides the hick guy and his dogs, is this: the experimental school got shut down. Naked people were too much for the authorities, it seems.