rshort1202

I am with Melissa, in her room. It seems like it is night time, though not super late - probably a little after everyone’s started to go to bed. I hear what sounds like her dad getting home and coming into the house. Inside now, I hear him calling for me specifically. I’m a little taken aback at him calling me directly, and I look to Melissa. She shakes her head no. I think we’re both undressed, probably post-coital. I decide to go out anyway, putting on a shirt and pajama pants. I don’t think I’ve put underwear on, and I look down to see if there’s a noticeable bulge. I go out to the kitchen or the hallway right before it. He has brought back chocolate and wants me to try it. The ‘chocolate’ looks like a plate of rice and beans, and if it’s really chocolate it looks pretty convincing. I try it and can’t tell which it tastes like. As I raise a spoonful to my mouth, I see something on my hand catch Carlos’s attention. He asks if I had a bloody nose. Using this perfect excuse, I say yes, I must’ve missed a spot cleaning up after it.




I’m in the backseat of a taxi with Melissa, Brittney, and Katie. on the back of the seats there is a screen for gambling, along with buttons to press and a place to insert money. I watch Katie try it and lose $20 right away. For some reason, I try it out too. At first, I think I’ve lost $20 also, but then I see I have a $60 payout. I take the money, but then Brittney starts using some of it to play. I think she loses some of it. I’m kind of irritated, but I still come out with more than I started with. I think the taxi has been in some drive through this whole time?

I am on a road trip with Dad and Makayla, with Dad driving. We are going to Texas, and I see that we’re currently driving through a corner of Utah. It is like I am seeing a satellite map of a moment, and I notice that there is snowfall on the ground right above where we are and will be travelling. It zooms and pans to the right a bit. We pass by many lakes in a short amount of time. They are all fairly small, but they are beautiful. The water is clear enough to see the bottom of an entire lake as well as all the light colored and large rocks within.




I am in a store with Sage when I grab off of a shelf at about eye level a bottle of Lagunitas beer. I think I had been looking for it and am excited to have found it. I tell Sage how good it is as I open it up. I grab a glass from the shelf and pour the beer fairly vigorously into it, producing only a small, snow white head. The beer has the appearance of carbonated white grape juice and smells of the same. I take a sip and it is good. I pronounce Lagunitas funny and kind of laugh about it. Now, I am parking on the side of a residential street behind another car. Dad is on the lawn of this front/side yard, faced away from me; I have come to meet up with him. I think I have brought the full glass and the remainder in the bottle, each in a cup holder. I get out and start talking with him. I ask if he’d be offended if I just stayed at Mom’s while I’m going to school. He hesitates, almost as if taken aback, and then replies, “no, of course not.” He says I can do whatever I need to focus on school. I notice we’re under a large oak? tree that splits near the bottom. I’m now in the house here (Dad’s?), I think with Mom and Makayla. There is indication of past activity, though no one is currently here. There are two boxes of Panda Express open on the counter, each with a glass of white wine sitting too near the edge. I notice about five of the Lagunitas beers, all opened and partially finished. It makes me a little mad because he all of them without asking

I am pulling into a fast food drive through, I think a Del Taco. The curve is a little sharp, so I feel close to the curb, the menu, and the small table on the cement right by the menu. There is a lady sitting at the table, and I feel like she is looking at me. I pulled up too far past the first menu, but I can still mostly make it out; it has a list of red wines. I consider ordering a glass, but nothing seems too appealing. They all look to be $6 a glass, which I think is a good price. I now start speaking with the employee through the speaker box. She says something that I ask her to repeat, so she says it again - she’s telling me that she’s about to go home, I think implying that I should hurry up. I pull up to another speaker box? and quickly order instead of looking for something new, so I don’t hold her up. I order two of one thing and two chicken quesadillas.

I seem to be at work when I answer a call about a girl in white what is following someone into the men’s restroom. I go to check it out, going downstairs, I think on an escalator. This place looks like a retail store, but sort of tall, thin, and cluttered. I now see the entrance to the restrooms, with large pieces of dark wood giving a dim but home-y cabin feel. I enter the men’s, which is on the right. The bathroom is huge and spacious. There are at least two separate spaces with lines of urinals along the stone? walls, each space with a different kind of urinal. The ones closer to me are stone, while I think the others might be steel. I walk up to a stone one and begin using it. It is long and low, sort of a stone rectangle with a basin. I start peeing on the stone above the basin, wondering how many have done the same before. I think there may be one other guy in here, as I seem to hear or sense motion. I look around, thinking about how this bathroom is at least the size of a large room (like in a public building or something; it’s probably the size of a small restaurant). I look around and leave a different way than I came in. I walk up an asphalt path on a slight hill. There are wooden picnic style tables on either side, some with remnants of meals. The whole area is covered by a shade structure, probably some kind of mesh or light tarp, as it is not very thick shade. Passing one table, I notice a tall glass with a handle that is still mostly full of something that is a chocolate milkshake color and consistency. I somehow see a review that they left of it, about how they didn’t like it? I think about trying it but don’t. I now pass an ice cream stand and think about getting some but don’t because it’s too expensive.

I am inside what feels like a gas station, kind of like a Maverick. There is a rolling grill containing the typical gas station hot dogs. I look at the two or three different types and their prices. There is a good price for three of them, so I think I’ll do that. I sort of self consciously think about what I’d look like carrying around three hot dogs with toppings. I now put two each on their own stale looking bun. There’s a fluid that runs off onto the bun; they look terribly under done, but still I keep them. Now, Caitie comes out of nowhere and, apparently working here, asks to see my ID. I’m not sure if she’s joking or not but, as we walk up to the counter, find out that she isn’t. I pull out my ID and give it to her, noticing how long this blue counter is. We talk for a bit and I think she’s really scrutinizing the ID.

I am going on a road trip with Brittney and I think Melissa also. I think that wherever we are going is around eight hours away. I think Brittney is going to drive the whole way, though I think about offering to help since we drive the same car. There is a sense of this being last minute, but not negatively so. Somewhere along the way we stop at a Jack in the Box? I order a number seven - some kind of cheeseburger. I think I initially said small, but the employee asks what size. I start to say large, but he remembers I said small, and it somehow gets brought to medium. Now we are waiting quite a while for our food to come out.




I’m in what feels like the backseat of a car, sitting next to Melissa. I think Brooke and someone else are in the front seats (Brooke in the passenger seat), which seem way too close. Melissa has taken my penis out and is playing with it, I think going down on it once. A flight attendant? squeezes past in front of us, and I put my leg up, trying to hide the hardness against it.

I am sitting alone on some flight of large stone steps that lead down to a body of water. I’ve brought some food so I can sit down and eat it. I’m not sure if I’ve come down here to be alone or to possibly talk to some others. I think there are some others down here.

I am what I think is LeadDog with Dad (I’ve never been there, but in the dream this fairly nondescript and small outdoor seating is LeadDog). We’re sitting at a small, wire, circular table close to the wall. I think we might be with one other also. A waitress comes over for drink orders. Dad goes ahead, and I feel like I haven’t really had enough time, but I just ask for the IPA. I think we’ve gotten food also, and it comes out before the drinks. When the drinks finally do come, I receive a pint glass only about ¼ full. Dad’s is not much fuller. The beer is sort of a nice looking hazy orange, but I can’t believe how empty the glass is. I am turned off by the poor service and think about leaving a bad review. Now, Dad has left me and wandered off inside. After a while, I look for him. Through the window I see him with some tan guy about his age in a tank top cut off at the shoulders. Their arms are over a stool like they are going to arm wrestle, but they’re both holding a stein of beer. I guess the objective is to see who can hold it longer. They seem to struggle, though they’re only 0.5 liter steins. I go inside and the atmosphere seems a little better.

I am with Brittney and by some pool. I’m not sure if it’s in ground or a small, natural pool. The water looks clear and inviting. I’m pretty sure it’s a natural pool, as I think the water is lapping up against sand.




I am outside somewhere that food is being served from a long table up against a wall. There is one in front of me, and he is getting the first large cut of a large slab of some kind of meat (it looks like the size of a small animal). I get the second slice, equally large. I put another large portion of something on my paper plate, making it just about full. I think I’ll have to come back later since I won’t have room for everything they have out on my plate.




I think I am going on a road trip or driving somewhere fairly far away.

I am with Melissa and some unfamiliar others in what seems like someone’s home. There is some event going on where we are being fed. There is a long table with toppings and ingredients for hot dogs. There are a couple of ladies seated behind the table, serving. This table seems to be in a slight alcove. I am up now and getting jalapenos on my bun. I then get a hot dog. There is a small thing of mayo that I’m going to spread on with a knife. I think the mustard is in a squeeze bottle (*I seem to wake up right at this point).

I am at the Alibi brewery with Melissa. It looks mostly different though - the bar area is smaller and seems shorter, with seating at the counter. It faces the chalkboard tap list and wraps around the end at a 90 degree angle, which is where we sit. It is not very crowded, but there is a fair amount of people, probably right before it gets busy. It is dim and laid back. Right away, a blond girl in her early 20s comes over to get our drink orders. Naturally, Melissa wants a water. She then looks to me, but I haven’t had enough time to choose a beer. I know there is one that I want, but I can’t think of the name. I say “uh…” while looking at the list, hoping she’ll help me out a little. Instead, she just says something like “wow, you do hate me/why do you hate me?” It could’ve been a playful joke, but with the way she said it, it came off as serious. She leaves and them comes back later for a food order. Melissa gets chicken strips. I’m still pretty turned off by the girl’s comment, so I don’t think I get anything, and she doesn’t seem to care anyway. Melissa now has her chicken strips, and they have brought me a beer. It’s only about ¼ full. I sip it, and it is the one I was thinking of (it tastes like some German style, maybe a doppelbock?) and tastes good. I just can’t really believe they served it that empty, so I snapchat it to Brittney. The bill is $40, $20 a person I figure. I want to tip her absolutely nothing, and I don’t think it would be unjustified. I consider writing her a note on the receipt as well.

I am at what looks like work, out on the floor and at a table (that is not really there) by the registers. There are a few different cakes that Mom has made sitting out. I think she’s sitting here too. I’m trying the cakes, and they are really good. Walking around now, I see only Beth ringing and what looks like a forming line. When I go to help, I see that the ‘line’ of people are still looking around. There is something about the Grateful Dead’s ‘worst’ show that happened to be played in Mexico. I think I am currently listening to it. It is very short. I think there are only six songs in the first set and one short song before drums in the second. I think there is a song with Bob and some female pop singer that really just doesn’t sound like them. Kat is here, and I tell her it is pretty terrible. Then I realize she was at the show and I don’t want to sound mean; I say it’s still fine because it’s the GD, but it is bad for their standards.

I am at some small event in some smaller event room. There are people from work here as well as Sage and maybe her boyfriend. I have come here with Makayla; I think it is somewhere in California. Makayla calls Mom to ask if we can stay here for dinner. I say, mostly to myself since she’s on the phone, that Mom could throw us a 20 and it would help. Mom says yes, inciting a subdued bout of excitement. I envision taking an Uber back just as a humorous scenario, mentally gawking at what it would cost if they even go that far. I am seated now, at the end of one of two tables that abuts the other. Against the wall and on smaller display tables are the beers on tap. Each actually looks like its own little machine - they range in appearance from slushee machines to small drink vending machines, etc, each with their own design for the beer within. Evelyn from work is looking at them all, very closely. I wasn’t going to go up and look at them alone, so I take this opportunity. There are some fairly good options, but nothing amazing. I think I see the Sierra Nevada Torpedo. I think there is a porter and a hefeweizen, the hefe in what looks like a pineapple yellow pina colada machine. I think its name is slightly off - actually Heineken or something? I think I decide to pass on it because it seems like a bad imitation of the style. I think I end up with a glass of the Torpedo. I’m now seated again, across from Sage and maybe her boyfriend. The apparent host, a petite, bald, bespectacled man wearing a white apron around his waist, is coming around and jovially making sure everything and everyone is okay. Everyone seems to be uplifted by this quaint man’s demeanor. He takes Sage’s order, which is ‘spare pork’. I now see a plate of it in front of her, three or four generously sized slices of pork. He looks at me now, and I want the same thing, but ‘spare pork’ sounds wrong, so I say instead ‘the same thing’. I notice my drink is a few sips away from being empty. I want to order another while I have the service available, but I also don’t want to ask for more while I still have some.




I am working a wedding. I am standing outside and near the entrance gate to what seems to be a large, upscale country club. Everything seems spread out, showcasing the grassy, and in places marshy, land. It seems like a pleasant day. I am holding a fairly big gift bag - it is for the couple whom I just saw but now cannot find. I feel sort of out of place. I want to get this gift to them, but guests keep showing up, expecting me to direct them. A lifted, impossibly white truck approaches; the driver is impeccably clean cut and dressed in an effortlessly classy and flattering suit. Through his open window, he tells me that he likes my shoes. They are my new ones (that I bought at work). I’m also wearing dress pants and a tucked dress shirt. He now asks me where the ‘halfway point’ is, and I hesitate. He asks again, kind of snootily, as if I should know right away. It makes me feel kind of stupid. I then recall an image of a white line on some asphalt, so I tell the man to continue on and he will see the halfway point marked with a white line, gesturing with my hands. To my left, I see the asphalt walkway meandering through and then becoming obscured by some tall grasses. I see men in suits walking with girls in dresses, all pastel colors, and it is idyllic. I now start walking, but I am not on any walkway. The ground is marshy; my feet start to sink enough to get the tops of my shoes wet. Beth has apparently been watching me and asks what I’m doing. I inwardly agree with her sentiment and start to come back. I still want to give them this gift though, so I start again, though this time I seem to be holding onto some kind of ledge and traversing with my feet also on some small lip of something more solid than the marsh. It all seems cramped and small and obscured by the foliage. *It is as I’m doing this that I hear my alarm go off.




Mom is in my room and has apparently been going through my stuff, as she is holding up what’s left of a joint in a plastic bag that was hidden in my laundry basket. She seems really upset, mad, or disappointed. I’m not sure why; it’s really not that big of a deal to me. She’s also holding some new clothes she got for me. There are some tank tops on hangers and some red and blue underwear that look more like Speedos. I take them and hang them in the closet; they are a tight fit. I think I’m getting ready to go to class or work.




I am in the bathroom with Melissa. I am naked at least from the waist down, and using some hair removal cream? on my pubic region. For whatever reason, I start rubbing it on my lower legs, until it starts to feel like there’s less hair (I didn’t intend to remove the hair on my legs). I tell Melissa I just accidentally removed all my leg hair and she doesn’t believe me. I rub my legs, feeling only skin and stubble.

I am walking up to a restaurant with Mom and Makayla. It is dim or dark outside. I think this place is Italian. We’re greeted by a hostess at a table on a little covered section outside the place. She seems sort of somber and then ends up telling Mom something like ‘sorry about Catholic Charities’. I think she is going to relay to the manager that we’re here. We walk in, passing all the tables, and end up in a large back room. It seems like it’s more for staff. There are a few giant pizzas and large portions of side dishes set out on table clothed tables. Some employees are casually coming and going while we’re in here, so casual that I hear one cuss. I now grab some food. I go back for some mac ‘n’ cheese, the underside of which is badly burnt, a black crisp. I think it still tastes fine. There is a subdued sense of excitement that this is going to be comped because they actually care what happened with Catholic Charities.

I’m in some fairly upscale restaurant with Mom. it sort of looks like the Atlantis buffet. We walk up to a counter. There’s a server, white, probably late 20’s, in all white, a chef’s hat too, I think, what comes up to greet us. Mom says something about a drink - beer or wine?- and I get concerned for a second. She specifies to him “Clausthaler”, and he pours one. There is also dessert - I think for us. The man is putting pieces of cake on separate plates, focusing on an appealing display.