Swallowing goldfish and preparing for a hike with a friend

I'm sleeping in a bed at my brother's apartment. I'm woken by children pulling my sheets off and using them as robes. A dried bat or rodent leg falls from a grilled trap door in the ceiling. I open the door to discover it's a Murphy bed folded into the ceiling. I play piano quietly to myself as children and strangers mull about in adjoining rooms.

I'm walking past a Civil War monument on a college campus. "Southern Rights" advocates are demonstrating in front of the statues and counter protesters in identical dress are counter-demonstrating in front of them, holding hands in a single line facing the statue. I pat the head of the last protester as I ride between the Southern rights demonstrators and protesters.

I'm still on the campus with a friend from high school who attempts to swallow live goldfish. He puts ten or twelve in his mouth, but can't swallow and spits them out on the sidewalk. I see that he was trying to chew them. I tell him "You're not supposed to chew!" and swallow the few that don't have any teethmarks.

I'm back at my brother's apartment - my parents and brother have left for a vacation by the coast - I am to meet them there later. Both my friend and I need to leave at 2:30 for separate destinations. We both miss our trains. I'm bragging about hiking to people in the train station. I wonder if I should extend my vacation and hike in the Appalachians.

Back at my brother's apt, I see it's been sublet to a group of drag queens. A man violently pushes a woman below the floorboards into a hole, I help her get out. I find my brother's backpack.

I'm walking with my friend who is also wearing a backpack. We're carrying no supplies, but our packs are heavy - my friend is struggling. I see that he doesn't have have his hip belt fastened - I explain that one is supposed to carry the weight on the hips, not the shoulders, but he continues to trudge along with the hip belt flapping.

I wonder if I have enough money to buy supplies for the hike.