I was with friends at some sort of concert or sporting event. We were in one of those balcony opera boxes. I was looking like I had just rolled out of bed, my hair was a poofy mess and I was wearing red, black and white flannel pants, a tee shirt that was entirely too big for me with some sort of cartoon character on the front and birkenstocks. Something happened at this scene but I don't remember what it was. I remember that I was either nervous or embarrassed.
The scene eventually changed and I was behind a desk in a poorly lit office. In fact, the office reminded me a lot of the office Joe in "Joe vs. the Volcano" worked in. Anyway, there was a really long line of people in front of my desk. Apparently all these people were hurricane Katrina victims and it was my job to listen to their stories and decide if they could get some sort of benefit or not. I was a apathetic a-hole! One woman told me this sad story of how she stood in water up to her chest for four days because she couldn't get out of her house. My response? "I've heard much worse. Denied!" I was listening to an old man when my alarm went off.
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