THE MAYOR

I find myself in a meeting with the new young mayor of Los Angeles, a man of considerable importance. I have no idea as to the reason for our meeting, but we are getting along just fine. He is engaged in our conversation, attentive and interested in what I have to say. I am recounting the story of my years as Dean and Director of Otis Art Institute and our battle to survive the decision of the L.A. County Supervisors to cut off funds for the school. Our meeting goes on for a surprisingly long time, a matter of some two hours from his busy schedule.

When the time comes to leave I go out onto the city streets, surrounded by vaguely familiar official buildings. I realize that I am already late to return home and imagine Ellie will be worried about what is taking me so long. It begins to rain, and I decide the best option is to call for an Uber. I try using my iPhone, without success, and realize that the battery is too low to make a connection. Perhaps I could impose on someone to borrow theirs? But then I would not be able to charge it on my credit card.

Looking for help, I enter a building that appears to be a city library. Inside, I find a young man working on a computer and assume him to be the kind of tech-savvy person who could help me out. I ask if I could hook up to his charger, with the thought that with this connection I'd be able to make my call. He agrees with what to me is surprising reluctance--he had seemed like a nice young man. My first call is to Ellie, to let her know that I have been delayed and would be late for dinner. To my surprise, she seems not in the least bit concerned.

I ask the young man for help with my mobile phone, which now seems to be more like a laptop computer, He starts to work on it, and the job seems much more complex than I thought. Before even completing it, he hands me an elaborate invoice on official-looking paper, on which the bottom line is $1,300. He laughs at my protests and tells me if I want my computer back I'd better pay up. He is working on what looks like a hard drive--a disproportionate task compared to what I had anticipated or asked.

I try to wrest the computer from his grasp and he resists, pulling back against me. I start to protest loudly, calling out for help from others in the library. I manage to attract the attention of several people, who come running up to see what the fuss is all about. I'm trying to shout out an explanation of the situation, even as I struggle with the tech guy and complain about his totally unfair bill. But I wake from the dream before I manage to get my computer back...