This morning, just before I woke (late, by the way), I was having a bizarre dream. I’ll try to document all I can remember.
I was attending a large daytime party, mostly outdoors. Only three people I knew were there, including a gay couple and a woman, all of whom had been in a business in which I was involved a few years ago. As the party was dying down, one of the men asked me if I would attend an event that evening. He would give me instructions on where to go and he would give me materials to distribute at the event. I understood, but I’m not sure how, that it was a cross-dressing event and I should plan to “fit in” by wearing flamboyant clothes and over-the-top makeup.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be seen only as a supporter,” the requester said to me.
Against my better judgment and with grave trepidation, I agreed. The two men walked with me to their pickup truck, a black vehicle with a huge television screen in front of the driver’s seat. One of the men reached in to the truck and pushed a button; a metal lid that covered the bed of the truck lifted up. The bed of the truck was stuffed with blankets and large bags with indistinguishable writing on them. And two long guns that looked like a combination of rifle and machine-gun. The guns surprised me; these guys were not gun “types.” One of the guys lifted a large bag of what I decided must have been dry dog food and said I needed to put it in my truck.
“We have an assigned booth number. Just find it and lay out the stuff in the kits we’re giving you,” the man with the sack said.
As I was making my way to my car (which was the old blue Toyota Avalon I traded in 2009), the woman I mentioned earlier came up to me and put her arm around my waist.
“You’ll do fine,” she said, squeezing me. “I’ll be there, too, so if you need any help, count on me. But you will be fine on your own.” She then hugged me, quite intentionally thrusting her breasts into my chest.
The next thing I remember the event they had asked me to attend was winding down and I decided I needed to go find my car. But I had absolutely no idea where I had parked. The event was in a downtown area with limited parking. I had no idea where to look for my car. I did not remember even arriving at the event and I did not remember anything about the event; I just knew it was ending and I needed to go home. I joined the clot of people who were leaving the event, walking down a dirty street with buildings very close to the street. We passed several alleyways, where I looked to see if my car could be parked. Rats were everywhere along the alleyways. And then, on occasion, swarms of rats would scurry back and forth in the street in front of us; I jumped over masses of rats. At some point, I realized I was being pushed up over the rats by someone behind me. Every time I jumped, the person pushed me up and forward; I leaped far higher and further than I could have done on my own.
Finally, at some point near an intersection, I saw a group of people congregating at a parking lot. I stopped and waited with them.
A woman approached me and said, “Your car is parked in here. What kind of car is it again, a Honda Civic?”
“No, a Honda Avalon. Blue.”
As I watched cars pour out of the lot, I saw that only a few remained and mine was not one of them. “I don’t see it. Oh, and it’s a Toyota, not a Honda.”
The woman conferred with some people who appeared to be running the parking lot.
“It appears everything you don’t see here has either been claimed or sold. I’ll see if we can find who has your car. If we can get to them before they leave the area, we can get it back for you.”
“What if you can’t?”
The woman shrugged, as if to say “I don’t know. Beats me.”
And then I awoke.