I'm an actress in a lo-budget short film being made in New York; I'm playing a kooky, Annie Potts-like woman who's making a living by buying old trucks and jeeps and redecorating them with kitschy fabrics, like fake leopard-skin fur and shag rugs. Not just the interiors of the vehicles; I put fur on the outside as well. Then I sell them to some men, who are apparently the main stars of the film.
So I'm on a break from filming, and as I leave the building we've been working in, I pass a large window that has overall-wearing window washers suspended outside of it. As part of the pulley system that's holding them up, they're using babies -- connected to ropes and sitting in soft, comfortable seats -- as weights. The babies don't seem to mind. They bob up and down as the window washers move from floor to floor. (Oh, and the babies are on the inside of the building, while the window washers are outside.)
I leave the building and go to a nearby pet store. I find a big package of catnip, but it's behind glass; I'm told I can't buy it. There's a big sticker on it that says "BANNED IN NEW YORK CITY."
