Fear, Loathing, and Zombieasaurs in Las Vegas | ONC 2021

Memory Problems

"That was a dinosaur."

"Are you sure?" Ari said, trying to see over the strange tall man who was blocking the view from the door as he peeked out into the hall again.

"Yes. I'm sure. I've been in enough movies with dinosaurs to know what one looks like." He closed the door again, flipped the deadlock, and leaned back against it.

He'd said his name was Jeff Goldblum as if she was supposed to know who he was, but she didn't. All she knew was she was trapped in a hotel room with a man who looked like he'd laid out in the sun too long, wearing some sort of Egyptian Pharaoh costume complete with a white and gold tunic, strappy sandals, long golden cuffs that covered his forearms, and eyes caked in black makeup.

"This is bad. Oh, this is bad bad bad," he said.

"Aren't dinosaurs extinct?" Ari asked. Random thoughts and facts bloomed in her mind as she tried to remember how she'd gotten there. They were occasionally helpful thoughts, but so far she was at a loss for everything that had happened to her...well...since her childhood really. Which was odd, since she had a fairly clear sense of herself as an adult. She ruled out dementia or Alzheimer's as those two words bloomed in her mind.

"They were..." Goldblum rubbed his cheeks and chin with wiry hands and peered at her. "Don't you remember anything from last night?"

Ari thought for a moment, scrunching her face and tapping her head. "No," she said finally. "I can't remember anything actually. Well, that's not true," she continued. "I can remember my name. And I know what dinosaurs are, and that they're extinct, or should be."

She grinned at him.

He groaned.

Clearly, he wasn't very good at taking things in stride.

"Well, I guess it doesn't really matter. Probably better that you don't remember actually." He grabbed something next to the bed, put it to his ear, and began hitting the little numbers on it. "Damn! The line is dead."

He patted his outfit like he was searching for something. "Do you have a cell?"

"What's a cell?"

"What's a cell. A cell phone? You know, to call people on? It's small and it fits in your hand, and allows you to talk to other people?" He was getting awfully close to her face, and she had to lean back and away to avoid his gross morning breath.

"Alright, alright, Goldblum," she said, putting up her hands to ward him off. "I've got a purse somewhere I think, you can look and see if I have one."

It was good that she knew the word purse, and as she said the word the image of a large, red bag blossomed in her mind so she spotted it right away on the nightstand. That was another word she knew.

She'd never really considered how funny certain words were. She mouthed the word purse over and over again. It made her mouth move in different ways.

He grabbed the purse from her and upended it on the crisply made bed, digging through the contents. She decided that whatever happened last night, she probably hadn't had sex with Goldblum. It was a relief. He was too skinny.

Sex. That was another funny word. She giggled to herself and the images it brought to mind.

"Peeeenisssss," she whispered gleefully.

"What?!" Goldblum frowned at her. "What are you whispering over there?"

"Oh, nothing," she said, giving him a big toothy smile. He frowned and went back to digging through her things. Apparently, she had a lot of them in the purse.