I am a guy, I sleeping the night in a car, outside a flophouse. I couldn’t sleep inside for some reason. I am with a bunch of homeless people, I am avoiding something/someone. I am dressed like I am homeless.
In the morning I leave and I go to sneak into the pent house that’s not mine, but I will hide out there. It’s night when I arrive and I am wearing a tux. I check in with the concierge briefly, then I fly up to the dining area. My flying reminds me of bike riding. My arms are forward, but low–I fly up to the second story area like I am coasting down a steep hill. To my surprise it is a public eating space, and my father and some people are sitting a few tables away. I don’t want to see him, I’m ruffled. I try to hide my face behind a menu, but I eventually go over to his table. I feel awkward and uncomfortable. I stand stiffly by them in my shiny tux and interact.