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dream: guns, art, vw bugs

i'm in Acton at Amy's parents' house. (I don't really remember much, here, except Julie (Amy's sister) has a new boyfriend, who's this dorky, redneck sheriff boy).


I called [someone] on my cellphone to see when a good time to pick [something] up would be. They're fine with "now". I drive my motorcyle out of Joshu Ya's parking lot (the bike I had when I was living there), go up Dwight... turn right on Piedmont (off of Durant, three blocks north of Dwight...)

Now I'm driving my old VW bug, and traffic is tight and strange. I hear sirens, but can't tell from where. In the right lane, I drive over a dead bull and marvel that I made it over, then a dead panther... which I marvel at and wonder about as well. I swerve into the left lane and *barely* squeak behind a fire engine rushing by. The sirens get louder, so I dive around traffic back into the right lane, to again be narrowly missed by a fire engine, and where I again run over a bull (steer?) in the same dead pose, and then a panther.

Traffic straightens out and the sirens fade away and I'm parking in an unmarked lot outside of a warehouse. A small amount of people are milling about and I wander into the warehouse, looking for someone (I'm not sure what or who, but figure I'll remember and am not worried about it). I'm carrying a plastic milk-jug of molten lead, swinging it about haphazardly as I wander about, and as I get near the "end" of the "trail", the jug slips and flies out and lands in one of the display/booth/workshops.

There's a rectangular pool of yellow/red molten metal separating the dark and slowly moving crowd from the folks in the display. The jug lands on a column of rock in the pool, near the people working. They don't notice it. I worry some that the heat from the "real" metal being melted would melt the plastic jug and lose me my lead.

I catch the attention of one of the people in the booth, and he tosses me the jug of lead back, which I catch thankfully and continue on.

The last room of the warehouse that I enter is a gallery, with various statuary and posters and art supplies. (the jug of lead has conveniently disappeared; I'm no longer worrying about it). I notice a box of oddly framed canvases for cheap -- and investigate, thinking it might be nice to have a few spare canvases, and extra nice to have frames for them. The frames are nice, but the canvases are actually poorly whitewashed boards ... stapled ... together. which reeks of cheap, and also of did-it-myself-aren't-I-cute-chic. I overhear a snippet of conversation between a potential customer and (apparently) a sales associate:

"Wow, these are nice if you can get away with them."

"Yeah. We limit how many we sell because we don't want people to realize they're being mass produced."

"That makes sense and gives a bit of value-added."

The warehouse begins to close (it's dark out, now) and I leave. People are milling about so it's hard to get in my car and drive away (and the car's not visible anywhere; I can't remember where I parked, though I'm not worried about it -- I figure it's the mass of people).

As the mass of people drains away and I mill about, a female in "dark" clown makeup catches my eye. She signs to me (not quite ASL) and mouths "I love you". Which makes me feel all sorts of uncomfortable. The 'volume' of the crowd makes it so that I can't really communicate back and I don't really know ASL; it would be hard to mouth that I'm engaged monogomously... but she trails off with her crowd and I'm slowly left alone, trying to figure out what I'm doing.

Before everyone disperses, though, someone hands me a HUGE gun (fat, like a heavy-duty electric drill, or like a supersoaker). I do my best to slip this under my jacket, but it makes for an uncomfortable thing to carry around and I'm not really hiding anything other than what it is that I'm hiding; I'm not exactly incospicuous.

"Cops," murmurs the crowd, and I can't figure out how to get rid of the gun without being seen.

I turn and run, on a narrow sidewalk angling down towards the parking lot. People are encouraging me on, further down, apparently waiting to help me somehow. I trip and fall off of the sidewalk about five feet, and roll (backwards). Rolling backwards feels neat, and I do it again. I pick up speed doing it because that feels even neater, and then I realize I'm just being silly and I slap my hand down to stop myself.

The hand-slapping gets a "shh!" from my would-be-rescuers, and they help pick me up and dust me off and walk me through the cop-line. The cop-line so far is just a handful of cops-on-feet. In the distance, I hear choppers, and there are squad cars slowly arriving "around" the scene (parking a few blocks out...)

I nonchalantly walk north past the descending cop-line, and my rescuers disperse/disappear. I enter a brightly lit shop (it's somewhat daylight outside, now that I've entered the shop), and poke around. There are a few barrels with things in them for sale, as well as a table near the window to enjoy the coffees and pastries for sale. I sit down at the table to watch through the window what's going on outside, feeling a bit uncomfortable about the gun still under my coat.

Two plainclothes cops filter into the store, one at each of the {entrance/exit}s. I'm sitting with someone else at the table... possibly someone else privy to my gun, and possibly a hell of a lot more privy to whatever is going on. He nods knowingly at me.

Outside the shop, Julie's "boyfriend" (remember, the dorky redneck sheriff boy?) drives up. I... nod to him, because I'm not going to be able to hide. He gives me a really stupid/quizzical look and then bounces in his char waving happily to me.

I get up, thinking it might be a good time (if not quite as good as a few minutes earlier) to leave. At one of the barrels, a man slips me a smaller, rather realistic-looking revolver. I drop the larger gun into the barrel, slip the revolver into a pocket, and walk out.

The cop I walk past is extremely suspicious of me but says nothing and doesn't touch me.

Outside, it's now full daylight, and I see the warehouse area COMLETELY surrounded.

I start trying to remember where I am relative to my motorcycle, realize the bike's going to be totally swamped with cops, and walk to the crosswalk. From there, I start trying to remember where I am relative to home.

The crosswalk doesn't seem to want to change and I'm feeling extremely antsy. It being berkeley and all, I jaywalk (frogger-like) five lanes of traffic, and wait at that island. I start trying to jay the next five, but they're more complicated. I keep having to dance back to the island to dodge yet another unexpected turn of car (it's a three way intersection with people doing all sorts of odd u's, and no apparent pattern to the traffic).


And I woke up happily-ever-after?

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