balban's Dream Journal

I was in a bar surrounded by bikers. They were all upset and yelling with violent excitement. I was concerned being around them. One of them charged up to me, screaming, "They killed our Prez! What are you going to do about it?!"

"Me," I said, really nervous now that someone had acknowledged me.

"Yeah! You're our Prez now," he said emphatically.

I started wondering how I could have been made their "prez". I wasn't a biker, yet something compelled me to try and calm these guys down. I raised my arms in an attempt to hush them. The room slowly quieted and I started talking, though I have no idea what I said. I am sure it was massively inspirational, since all eyes were attentively on me as I spoke. I was walking about the room and through the crowd. I believe I was trying to convince them that running around, all half cocked, was a bad idea. What I do remember saying is that we needed to know for sure what had happened. I could tell that only half of the bikers were with me and the other half were glaring at me as if they wanted to kick my ass.

As I was talking, I walked up to a window and looked outside. There were people, seemed like tourists, walking passed the windows. One of the bikers grabbed me and forced me away from the window. He scolded me, yelling that my standing by a window is basically death. It kind of made me sad that this was now my life, but I felt a sense of responsibility for these guys.