My friend Ann, Becky with the Boobs, three other girls that I can't identify and myself went to a 'seminar' which was held at Eric Bogosian's house which was in Oak Park Illinois, in a brick bungalow. He was going to speak to us about being famous and also having a family. This included a tour of his home.

After the standard tour we were lead to a room that was almost all windows, like a green house. Except near the top, where a transom would be, the room was lined with stained glass panels, dark and a bit foreboding. They were in blood red and emerald green and a midnight blue that barely let in any sun, and the panels themselves were like fragments of bodies and faces, an eye, a definitive picture. The furniture in the windowed room was all wrought iron and quite bizarre. There were chairs with three legs and spiked headrests and a chaise lounge that had shackles attached to the legs, and hanging from the walls were thick, rusted, iron chains, some too big to move, others almost thin enough to be necklaces, but about eight feet long. There had to be at least a dozen of them. Eric Bogosian stood in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips and said,

"What is this room?"

It was a test. Ann said "It's like a museum".

He shook his head.

Becky said, "A porch."

He shrugged and said, "It's sort of a porch. I'll accept porch."

I leaned over to my friend and whispered, "It looks like a dungeon." and she elbowed me in the ribs. We giggled.

"What did you say?" He said, walking right up to me.

"I said it looks like a dungeon."

And then he winked at me and said, "Maybe it is."

So then we had to leave and I couldn't get my boots on, because they kept turning inside out no matter how I pulled at the leather, and Eric Bogosian said, "You're just stalling for time. You want to stay at my house."

There was this weird silence and Ann grabbed me and said, "We're leaving. Now."

And so we went to brunch.