Dream of: 20 October 1993 "Crazy Bus Driver"
I was riding in a motor vehicle with my father. I was in the front seat and my father was in the back. Some other people were also sitting in the back, including a middle-aged man wearing a dark suit. I turned around and noticed that both my father and I had placed some books on the shelf behind the back seat, and I saw the man in the suit glance at the books. My father had placed several books dealing with self-help on the shelf. All of my father's books also appeared to be of a business nature. One dealt with overcoming stress. Another book was about buying and selling stock. Most of my books were turned around so their titles couldn't be seen. Only one of my books, a French-English dictionary had the title visible. I wished more of my books could be seen, especially the one titled Lucid Dreaming, so the man in the suit could know what kind of books I read.
As the vehicle continued, I realized I was actually sitting on the rear of a bus filled with people. I found it particularly curious that the bus was going backwards down a narrow residential street. I thought the street must be one-way and the bus driver was going backwards to save time.
When the bus finally stopped, a black woman (probably in her 30s) wearing a black skirt got off and walked up the steps of a house. When the bus continued going backwards down the street, I looked out the back window and was shocked to see that the bus now going down hill straight into a body of water. Suddenly the bus crashed into the water and began to sink.
A black woman (probably in her late 30s) in a light brown outfit was sitting next to me, between me and the window. I quickly decided that the only way to survive would be to lower the window, let the water in and swim out. I turned to the black woman, who seemed completely calm, and I told her she would need to slip out of her clothes to get through the window. I meant she would have to take off her jacket. I realized that she was somewhat overweight and that she might have a problem, because she might not be able to pass through the window.
Before the woman and I could put our escape into operation, the bus began moving again and pulled out of the water back onto the road. The bus began traveling forward down the road it had just come on. I was highly agitated. I turned to my father, who was sitting in a seat on the other side of the aisle, and told him that I wasn't going to stay on this bus, that the driver was crazy and that I was getting off.
I grabbed together a few things and began walking down the aisle. Looking outside, I realized I was in the West End of Portsmouth, close to the flood wall of the Ohio River. I didn't particularly want to get off here, but I was determined not to stay on this bus.
I had a very difficult time going down the aisle of the bus because the bus was crowded and people were leaning out into the aisle. As I moved along, I told people I was getting off and that they should too.
Finally I reached the driver. The man was probably in his early 40s and was wearing a dark blue uniform and hat. I immediately knocked off the hat, revealing the man's dark brown, rusty-tinted hair. The hair was rather long and disheveled and the man might also have had a mustache. I immediately vented my anger at the man and demanded to be let off. But the driver refused to let me off. I became angrier and argued with the man until the bus finally stopped.
I was surprised to see the other passengers also begin to disembark, apparently spurred on by my actions. When I stepped from the bus, I was surprised to see several police cars and policemen in the street. I was uncertain whether they were here because of the bus or for some other reason. I walked over to one of them to tell him of the bus driver's actions. But when I tried to speak, my voice barely came, and I feared the police officer wouldn't be able to hear me.
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