I ran into Liz outside near the gallery. She looked good (straight) for a change, so when she asked me to go in the car with her, I said, "OK," even though I had my roller skates and a couple pairs of shoes to carry. I rode in the car with her to 22 St. out of state. She asked me to run upstairs with her. By this time there was more stuff to carry. She had keys to a room and her stuff was there. She talked on the phone to a guy she liked. He was a male prostitute. I did not find him appealing in any way. The building floor on 22 St.--something fishy was going on there with girls who rented rooms in this place. They rented some full-time, but you could tell what they were doing. Something fishy was going on--you could tell by the sounds ??? but then intense frantic conversation. Liz knew who rented rooms in this place. She rented it for 12 hours. Liz got half the day and the male prostitute took the other half. The male prostitute rented it for secret activity (that) only the girls of the house knew about. They made little inside jokes and that was sad. Because they thought it was cute. She came back and now she's fucked up big time on drugs. We needed to gather postage stamps. Blocks of 5x5 stamps but somehow the total was always 10, not 25. Some stamps were unusable because the circle perforations had been popped open and exploded like bubble wrap. Stamps were all over the floor ??? and under them was a coke vial and Liz sniffed the last coke and threw the vial out the car window. I was trying to go to sleep. I wanted to take a nap. I'd just got off my shoes when a knock came at the door. He said, "Your 12 hours is up. Where's the guy? Finish up and get out." I said, "WHAT!" And he said the maids were coming to put clean sheets on the bed and then I understood. I wanted to tell the girls, but I knew they would not listen anyway so I started gathering up my stuff to get away from this dangerous place. My bags, now more and too heavy, so many, so many shoes and my roller skates and something a guy said made a piece of paper wrinkle in slow motion. Smooth wrinkle. The (male prostitute) guy left something on the shelf. He was looking for it. I said, "Next to the TV." He was finished the 12-hour shift and the girls were relieved but soon it would show up. I was alone again and knew I should have kept to myself in the first place.