I am in a Pizza Hut restaurant, in a surprisingly large group. Strangely, though, ten people sat at one table; another ten sat at a different table, on the far side of the restaurant; and the guest of honour sat alone, by the door. I go to the table at the lower, right-hand side of the restaurant. I notice, though, that there is no chair at my part of the table, and decide to borrow one from another table. Unfortunately, it is already occupied, by a middle-aged woman in a brown school blazer, who has been to the buffet. I apologise for asking, such is the polite thing to do, but she takes against me, maintaining that I am of an inferior class to her. Thereafter ensues the most peculiar upper/lower-middle class argument that ever did happen. She makes such arguments for her superiority as, "Neither I nor my family ever watches television." (If she had said ITV, she might have had a point.) My mum and I disregard her completely.
I am visiting my grandparents, when I discover that the whole house is overrun by surly teenagers, none of whom I recognise. I am baffled by this, so I go to sit in the front porch, under a crushed front gate. Suddenly, people congregate around me, and begin playing a game involving a ladybird. The house and its environs are transformed into a Liverpudlian school. It appears to be on fire, in its basement. Everything is chaotic, and nobody knows what to do. I seize the initiative, by grabbing a black, carbon dioxide fire extinguisher. I pull out the pin, but it sends the gas into my face. I then realise that I must hold it open, like a doctor's bag, in order to extinguish any fire. I do so, but am too feared to go looking for the fire, so I run out into the night.