Gene returns!

I am in the parking lot of a shopping mall that is also a small independent nation. It is an island. I know this, but the parking lot continues to the horizon, though, even at that great distance, the parking spaces all seem to be the same size, approximately twelve feet wide by twenty-five feet long. There is no fore-shortening effect. Each store inside the shopping mall is bigger than WalMart. Each store only carries one item. One store has shirts, another has yo-yos, others have water, animal crackers, televisions, islands, small donkeys, etc... I am not me and wearing a uniform with blue lapels. I enter the store that sells people. All the people look exactly the same—like slightly chubby Gene Hackmans. I walk to the cashier. She stares directly at my lips. I can't talk. She stares, then hands me a stapler.