Dream of: 21 September 1994 "Cachorro"

I was at an outdoor party taking place at a house into which I had recently moved. The house sat on the corner of the street and sported a gigantic yard. A large barn also sat on the lot; part of the party was taking place in the barn.

Many people whom I knew had come to the party; I busied myself making sure everyone had what they wanted. I was thoroughly enjoying myself in the process. My father, who looked young and thin, was standing to the side, and my old friend Steve Buckner was standing behind him. Buckner also looked young (around 20 years old). I thought I heard Buckner moaning, "Oh, oh, oh." Unsure I was hearing correctly, I walked over closer to him. He was standing and staring at the ground. He might be on drugs; I might like to take some drugs myself. Even though my father could hear me, I didn't care, and I asked Buckner if he was okay. Buckner became alert and told me he was okay.

Nearby was a small garden where some other people were sitting. As Buckner started to head toward the garden, I told him I thought the garden would be a good place for him to go and sit. If he were tripping on drugs, he would probably have a good time sitting in the garden. I might want to go over there later and sit myself.

As I walked back to the main party, a blond-haired fellow (about 20 years old) walked past me and looked at me. Wearing a white tee shirt, he exhibited a rough appearance. I thought he lived in the neighborhood; his look seemed to say that now he knew who lived in this house. I reflected that I had lived in the house for a while without really introducing myself to the neighbors; now they would finally know who lived here.

I walked into the barn, climbed up a ladder to a loft and stepped off the ladder onto the loft. Since the loft was dark, I thought perhaps I should take off my sunglasses. But I thought the glasses, as well as a pair of gloves I was wearing, made me look cool. So I kept the glasses on.

Stacked in the loft were many cases of beer for the party. From the loft I could look down below, where a large table was overflowing with food. Once in the loft I began looking for my sister. I thought my sister had some drugs which she could give me; I wanted to take some.

As I walked past a group of young girls, one (about 13 years old) suddenly stood up, grabbed me by the arm and said, "I'm not having a good time."

I looked at her more closely. Wearing a brown bikini, she was quite attractive with fully developed impressive breasts. Other people were watching me; it might not appear proper for me to be talking with this young girl, but she was so attractive, I simply couldn't pull myself away from her. Knowing that she was obviously flirting with me, I asked her why she wasn't having a good time. Feeling cool with my sunglasses and gloves, and feeling important by the attention she was giving me, I suggested that she shouldn't be so timid; she should act more like me. I told her that at least I was having a good time.

A boy slightly shorter than the girl walked up. At the same time, I noticed that the girl was wearing small, brown, boxing gloves. I held my gloved hands in the air and playfully asked her if she wanted to fight. But then I noticed that the boy also had on boxing gloves; obviously he intended to box with the girl. I backed away, dropping my right hand to my side. But feeling something on my right hand, I looked down and saw that the boy was chewing on my gloved hand. I looked at him and said, "Cachorro."

I knew "cachorro" was the Spanish word for "cub." By using this word, I was trying to say that the boy was a nuisance, like a cub; at the same time I was trying to impress the girl by showing her that I could speak Spanish. The boy didn't really bother me. It was actually rather amusing to see him chewing on my gloved hand. However, his behavior began to annoy me when he continued to refuse to let go.

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