Dream of: 31 August 1989 (3) "Incriminating Receipt"

I was living with George Musser (a burly Portsmouth, Ohio acquaintance whom I briefly knew in 1970) in an apartment in an old but comfortable house. While Musser and I were sitting in the kitchen, I asked him if he knew where he could buy some marijuana. He sat at the kitchen table and thought for a while, then picked up the phone and called someone. When he got off the phone, he told me he could get an ounce of marijuana for $50. He said the fellow with whom he had talked had wanted $75 at first, but then had said he would take off a gram or two and sell it for $50. I thought the fellow was black, and my basic concern was that the marijuana be of good quality.

After I sat down at the table and gave Musser $50, he pulled out a receipt book and wrote me a receipt. When he stood up to leave, I asked him if he were on probation for something. He told me that he was and that if his probation were revoked, his punishment would be a $14,000 fine and an indefinite term in prison. That sounded serious to me, especially since I thought if he were arrested with marijuana in his possession his probation would probably be revoked.

As he started to leave, I told him to be sure to put the marijuana in the trunk of the car when he got it. I also told him to be sure to obey all traffic laws, and if he were pulled over, not to consent to having the police look into the trunk. He then left.

I walked into the living room, which was quite large with little furniture. It was large enough to exercise in, and I did a few feeble karate kicks to the side. Then I just did some leg lifts. I wondered why I hadn't just come in there to exercise to begin with instead of buying marijuana. The marijuana was really going to interfere with my thinking, and I had quite a few things I need to be doing, including some writing.

I walked back into the kitchen and looked at the receipt book which was still lying there. It occurred to me that if Musser were arrested, and and if he told the police that I had given him money to buy the marijuana, I could be charged with some kind of delivery offense. I quickly opened the book and tore out the receipt, and along with my copy, tore it up. I walked into the bathroom to flush the receipt and the copy down the commode. Once I was in the bathroom, however, I discovered someone had thrown a magazine in the commode, and I first had to pull the magazine out of the commode. It now seemed as if four people were living in the apartment and the apartment didn't seem as nice as before. I threw the pieces of the receipt into the commode and watched them being flushed down.

Now it occurred to me that the impression from the pen might have gone through to the next receipt when Musser had written in the receipt book. I needed to check it. The police might try to use it if I were brought to trial.


I was in a courtroom where I was being tried in a marijuana case. I could see Musser in the audience. Apparently he was going to testify against me. I felt sick.

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