Private (Third) Eye: Part Two

When I came to the next day I was not in my apartment. Where in the hell was I? I tried to open my eyes but some sticky substance was glueing them shut. I reached up, assuming it was blood - probably my own - but instead finding, and of course tasting, custard. Some sick freak had desserted me. Who? And When? Also why? And I guess, how? I didn't know and as I wiped away what was soon to become my breakfast I tried to compile a list of who it could've been. Much like the look in the eye of a fast food restaurant employee, my mind was blank.
Upon regaining my sight I looked around. It did little good as wherever I was seemed to be in total blackout. Really now, where in the hell was I? I was still working on the who question, let alone the others, and this location based dilemma was not helping matters at all. At times like this I would usually incite one of the low lives this job brings me in the same circles as to knock some sense into me before I put him down. Of course this plan sometimes, well often backfired as these loons tend to be on the large side.
I staggered to my feet. I was dizzy. Maybe it was the custard, maybe it was the concussion I'd received the previous week (but that's another story), I couldn't be sure. What I was sure of was that I didn't know where in the hell I was. Where in the hell was I? I took a deep breath and as I did I noticed a scent lingering in the air. That damned pot plant had taken me for a mug but did he have the gumption for something like this. I didn't know. I didn't know anything, least of all where in the hell I was. Seriously, where in the hell was I?
I did know one thing. It was a Tuesday.