Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow

I had a dream.

- He had a dream!

- Oh great. 

- Gather 'round everyone—the pervert's had a dream!

- You know who else had a dream?

- Shut up, everybody.

It was 10:48pm.

- Are you sure it wasn't 11:48pm?  That's closer to midnight.

- Will you shut up and let him finish telling the story?

- (after a pause) You shut up.

It was 10:48pm.  I had pulled around to the back of the motel.

- Oh, a motel!

- You know what he does in motels!

- Yea, jerks off!

- Shut up!

- No, you shut up.

There was a man and a woman standing outside at the rear as well.  The woman was by her stroller.  The man was looking into a back window.  It was dark in the rear.

- It always is!

I saw in the clock in my car that it was 10:48pm, and looked to the couple to discern if it was safe to go in. They were being discrete.  While the man was looking into the window, the woman had in her hand one of those seashell musical instruments you shake and it feels like the sound of sand moving inside.  She was using it gently as a signal that the coast was clear.  I got out and walked into the courtyard of the motel.  Security was more prominent than usual.  Two little Asian men stood in rent-a-cop suits two sizes too big.  Their big hats hid their faces and when some activity moved past them in the courtyard, they got lost in their suits—but you could tell, that one of the old Asian men was an old Asian woman.  More security lay in wait in front of the door of the makeshift operation.  These officers stood on the pavement of the parking, not on some slab of concrete.  They were one inch taller than the old Asian man and woman, and they, too, wore big hats and were lost in their suits.  I didn't want to make them nervous, in case one of them dropped their gun, and had to crotch to pick it up with both hands.

I walked into the room, and inside were more Asians: a man and three women running around the room.  I immediately assumed the man was vile, but he was just stern with his workers.  I asked if I could still get mine, and he nodded respectfully, and I knew I didn't hate him.  I looked up to a cardboard sign somewhere by the curtains, but didn't need to read the felt menu.  I knew I wanted it with ham.  I ordered my breakfast burrito, and in the tail end of the haze, I found myself debating if there might be pineapples in it with a teriyaki glaze.

* I'm not sure if the title of this should be

a) Everybody Needs A Bosom for a pillow

b) crotch