Batch

12-27-2013 -- The first thing I can remember of this one, I am driving down a highway, possibly with Ron and Mary. We're in separate cars, but driving right next to each other, and though it feels like we're driving down the middle of the state, we're also approaching the whole Palm Beach / Fort Lauderdale area, which may mean we were driving down the turnpike, though we may have eventually changed to I-95. I think I am delivering a package down to Lauderdale.

As we continue driving along (what is now looking like a fairly busy surface street), we are suddenly facing a car heading straight at us on the wrong side of the street. We swerve around it, just to find ourselves viewing a couple more cars crashing into each other. Then another car on the wrong side of the road, followed by two or three more cars in a wreck, then two or three more going the wrong way. There are police everywhere, and we can't figure out exactly what is happening, though it very well may be cars exiting a freeway the wrong way to avoid a big pile-up or something. All I know is they are creating an even bigger mess out here.

Suddenly there is a greenish station wagon like the one I used to drive flying through the air, turning end over end as it crashes to the ground, followed by a line of 10 or 12 cars going the wrong way at high speed, sending everybody insane. As we swerve every which way to avoid them all, Ron and I look across at each other, and can see we agree. We swerve into a parking lot, and park our cars next to each other, both pulling forward to the second space in the row we're in. We climb out of our cars, and are now walking forward, trying to find out what is going on. I find I was driving a compact red sedan.

As we walk back toward the street, the cars continue in their crazy patterns, and we spot one guy running away from the cars on the wrong side of the road, but unfortunately he runs right in front of a diesel truck and it is horribly messy. The shoulder we are walking on sort of drifts away from the road for a few yards, and suddenly we find ourselves in almost a sort of concrete tunnel, looking up at a short ladder (four to five feet tall) that lets us climb up to a gate that we can open to step back on to the street. Ron and Mary decide they have had enough, and just turn around to walk back to the car, while I decide to continue on. Because of my size and shape, I am having a difficult time climbing the ladder, and first have to put down the painting that I seem to be carrying.

I hand it to somebody standing there, manage to climb up, and then ask him to hand it back to me. He refuses, instead asking me why I think I should go out there. I try to explain it is OK, I have a professional drivers license, and he demands to know exactly what kind of license, where was it issued, and more. I say after I get off the ladder, I will show him the license. He asks more and more questions, getting ruder all the time, and I decide I am not showing him anything. He has no right to know, anyway. I demand he hands the painting to me, and he complies with poor grace. I then point to a large bottle of multi-vitamins that also belongs to me, and is sitting on the ground, and ask him to hand me that, as well, and he refuses. He is being a real ass, and I am severely ticked off, and I finally pronounce a nasty curse against him in the name of Jesus, and stalk off, though a few seconds later I am feeling more and more bad about it.

I find myself thinking, and realize that God is not bound by space and time, and start to realize that, though unlikely, it is possible that all these accidents and car wrecks could possibly have been caused by my curse against the guy. I am thinking of trying to get to the Cheeburger Cheeburger location in Boca or Lauderdale, since they closed the one in Orlando, but as I continue walking along, I realize I am not going to get very far walking barefoot through all this wreckage, and decide I better turn around and get back to my car. I am going to need it to get very far.

As I am walking back, I find a very long Doctor Who-style scarf that I know is mine, though it is closer to the colors of the one Tom Baker wore than either of the ones I made. As I make it back to the strange little concrete tunnel and the ladder, I find everybody has left, and as I climb back down I find my bottle of vitamins, but the nasty guy opened it and pooped in it, so that bottle is now wasted. Ick! I continue back to the spot where Ron and I had parked, just to find both cars are missing. I expected Ron and Mary would have driven off, but I am wondering where my car is, and am annoyed to fear that my car has been stolen yet again. But I notice a nearby police station in the parking lot, and wonder if it may have just been improperly towed away. I walk inside, gingerly stepping over all the broken glass from the accident in my bare feet. Inside the police station, I find a long line, including a lot of very tough looking guys, including a big black guy who threatens to kill me if I don't wait my turn in the line. While I am griping, he tells me to shut up as he doubts I have any problems worth complaining about, and I suddenly tear into him about how often (in my dreams) my car gets stolen, and how sick I am of it!