I was staying at an expensive hotel near the ocean. It was a white, wooden structure, but showed its wear. At one point, I spoke to [cousin] who lived there. I asked her if she wanted to go to Peet's to get some coffee. She was with a friend. She said to me, "Oh, Peet's won't let me buy coffee since I drunk-dialed them a few weeks ago."
I asked if I could call and smooth things over. Maybe they'd let her in again. Then a dog entered the room. It was a skinny white dog, like an undernourished retriever. I followed it out of the room.
It led me to a grassy grotto next to the hotel. There was jazz music playing in the background. There was a series of tall tables, maybe four of them. You could stand or lean against them because there were no chairs. I followed the dog over to a tall man with long, stringy hair. His face was dirty. I recognized him as Michael Gira of the Swans, though he actually didn't look like Gira very much.
I asked him if that was his dog. He said, "Yes." Then he stuck his hand out for a handshake and said, "My name is Warden."
"You're the singer from the Swans, right?" I asked.
"Yes, I am." He smiled.
For some reason, I felt I needed to buddy-up to him. I said, "I really liked your last album." In my mind, I pictured a black-and-white album cover. I thought their last album was from a few years ago. I knew I was lying. In reality, I didn't like their last album at all, and it wasn't from a few years ago, anyway. His smile disappeared. I knew that he knew I was lying.
Then I looked away, looking for the dog. About fifteen feet away, I saw this scrawny, mangey brown-and-white dog with long rabbit-like ears. I wondered how the dog had transformed itself like that.
AFTERTHOUGHT: I just realized why he didn't really look like Gira, had stringy hair, and called himself "Warden." It's because he actually looked like Ward Churchill! He's the guy who called the workers in the Twin Towers on 9/11 "little Eichmanns" and who just won his case against U. of Colorado.