I am upset because sometime today I am supposed to be in a play but I can't remember when and where, so I call Blake to find out, but he's out of the office. I try to tell the secretary, but I can't even remember the name of the play, much less my lines. I feel some anxiety about my unpreparedness. A man then shows up and it's sort of Blake. The play has been postponed and I am very relieved. Now I see Merle is doing his comedy routine in front of a crowd in a bar and I go in to watch. All the people are crowded into one half of the room, on the side we're on. The other half is empty. I come up close to Merle, near the side of his wheelchair, and suddenly his fairly normal arm and hand reach down and grab my foot and tickle it. I hate being tickled and I squirm and yell, "Stop it! Stop it!" I am angry at him and he laughs and says, "At least you can feel it." I say, "No, that's not a good thing! It's worse than pain." Later, Charla and I go to a bar where I will perform. I go to find a place to sit and three women crowd around me. One is demanding to know what my disability is. She's very curious. I say, "Wait a minute. Go sit there and I'll answer these other women's questions and then I'll answer yours." She goes and sits. Meanwhile a Blake-type person is flirting with me and I am pleased he's sitting near me, behind where I'm sitting. He had asked me some pathetic question about my disability and I had impressed him by saying I was the performer here. I answer the old woman's question. I advise her to get a medical dictionary and refer to it. She's not to happy with this general answer, but leaves. I need to go to the bathroom, so I go to find it, saying, "I hope I don't find some sleazy guys here." I see a door and realize it's the men's room. I joke that I'd really find some sleazy ones there. I find the women's room and peek in. It's filthy. There are men in there too as well as women. I decide I'll wait and try to get back to my seat. The place is crummy and scary now and there is a boss that will try to cheat me. I just want to get out without getting Charla or myself hurt. The man, Blake, has moved and I feel sad, but realize he moved to get a better place to watch me. I decide to leave and go back where the man who pays me is, near the filthy restrooms. He counts out 57 dollars, a pathetic amount and an obvious cheat. To his surprise, I grin and say, "Thank you." I'm just pretending to be happy so I can get out alive and then call the police and tell on them. I get out and Blake is there and he decides he needs to go to the bathroom. He gets in line and for reasons I don't recall, I decide to go back and go to the bathroom in the sleazy place. I get there and the man at the counter decides to return Charla and my things (coats and things). I am surprised. He tosses them to me one at a time. The last one is my jacket which has an American flag part sewn on the front right side (left as I look at it). I squeal and say, "Oh, darn." He asks what the problem is. I look again and it is gone. I say, "I thought I saw an American flag sewn on my jacket, but I was wrong."