Leaning over an end of a bar, facing the view opposite of what the dreamscape showed my subconscience, I was listening in and out of the loud and voluminous verbal air and between my thoughts. Smoke had also filled the air of the dark and low roofed tavern from cigars and cigaretts making a white dim light from the back corner of the right side beam gray and very weak yellow. People where everywhere. Not many had very much room to manage with. Music was not present, just a high babble. Some would leave their group to visit the restroom or the bar tender or just other groups at round tables. Everyone was standing up when I made these observations, looking foward at a sub angle to the floor's darkend green and red carpet. Maybe I was the only one not speaking, but it sure felt like it before the next part of the dream.

A man walked in from the right of the permanent dreamscene, along the imaginary horizontal line laying across the bar. He stopped in soft talking distance at my side and wore a heavy black leather jacket, dark pants, and short buzzed hair. He could stand maybe three inches taller than me as we faced eachother.

As if we had been in business for years he gave an update on some recent marijuana trafficking while casually revealing cash in his wallet he held at chin level. It seemed the object of my interest was a smaller than average gun he had. He showed it and told me it was new and only for his protection, my eyes where fixated on it's glassy side parts while he began explaining it's composition. It was manufactured with a mysteriously rare combination of steel and marble, given its black shiny reflection. Exposed only for a minute he put his wallet and gun back in his pockets. He heard me ask if I could be sold one sometime. He absorbed it for a second and then retorted a comment basically which said I would have to do some long distance traveling since he wasn't willing to come back to this area. He left to the right entry and the dream ended.