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 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 was in a store alone (I never am) trying to find the ingredients for hotdogs but they were no where and I woke up. Lol
August 24 2013 - I remember that there were people who had somehow merged with technology and normal people hated them and tried to kill them, but I was their friend(?). I also remember a large open field with yard sales, where I saw airsoft guns, an I also saw a hot dog stand somewhere.
Recent Comments
