I was in college. One of my roommates, a skinny guy with shaved hair and thick eyebrows, was making porn while I was trying to sleep. I told them to stop. He threatened to kill me. I ran to campus police, but they couldn't do anything. Then he posted a bunch of embarrassing personal information about me on his porn site. I grabbed a wooden trunk with the rest of my personal information and ran away.
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I was in some sort of club, but instead of playing music or having live bands, they just played a bunch of mashed up video clips off old RCA Videodiscs. (I remember they played Prince's "1999," but not all the clips were music. Some of them were just movie trailers.) Some guy invited me upstairs, along with a couple of friends. It turns out he was interviewing us to potentially provide new videos for them. As a hiring bonus, he let us pick through a warehouse full of old videotapes and videodiscs. I asked a bunch of other pickers if they had seen a copy of Star 80. Shortly after I left, the place got busted by copyright police. I had no way to get home, so I just started wandering around alleys.
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