I was teaching the history of Internet design to eight-year-olds.

I was walking in “Lakewood,” a very ornate neighborhood along a lake. The outside facades of the homes had no windows: they were carved wood exteriors reminiscent of antique headboards. I opened the door to one house and immediately entered an elevator. My choices were “boring” or “romantic.” I chose “romantic” to avoid “boring.” When I exited the elevator, I was in a school. Ricky Martin was teaching and asked me if I loved him. I said no, but I knew a man who loved him. Ricky got very irritated and started to chase me. To escape him, I climbed up a vending machine full of cheesecakes. I later snuck out through the men’s bathroom (it was stuffed with antiques and reportedly, a few men lived in there).