I was in an apartment into which I had recently moved. I was returning to college and was going to live in the apartment while I went to school. The apartment was on the ground floor, and from my windows I could look right out onto the street. As I looked outside, right beside my window, I noticed a pile of things which appeared to be trash which someone had left there. In the back of my mind I seemed to recall having seen a woman and a child earlier near the trash, and I thought the trash was probably theirs.

I reached out and riffled through the things on top. I first noticed a child's leather holster for a toy gun. I recalled having heard such holsters were becoming valuable as collectors items, and I picked it up, thinking I might take it. But it was so flimsy I couldn't see how it could be valuable, and I threw it back down.

Continuing to look, I then noticed another holster. This holster was a miniature holster, obviously too small even for a child. However it was made of a rich, thick, brown leather and was in excellent condition. I picked it up and examined it more carefully. I found it had some figurines made of pink bubble gum stuck on the buckle and in the holsters. I put it to my nose and smelled the distinct aroma of bubble gum. I then recalled when I had earlier seen the mother and child, the child had had some pieces of bubblegum. Obviously the child had then put the bubblegum on the holster.

I thought chances were good woman and child intended to return for these things. But I had decided I wanted to keep the holster. I thought it would technically be stealing; but that didn't bother me, for I thought I needed to learn how to steal things anyway. I was only concerned I would be able to get away with it.

I looked around the room for a place to stash the holster. I didn't see any good place, but finally decided to stick the holster it in a dresser drawer under some clothes. I opened the bottom drawer and put the holster under some of my sweaters in the drawer. As I did so, I thought how it would soon be fall and I would be wearing the sweaters again.

***

I was sitting in a cafeteria when a fellow I hadn't seen in over 20 years approached me and sat down with me. I recalled having met him at The Ohio State University in the early 1970s. He had long black hair tied in a pony tail, was thin, and looked as if he were in his early 20s. I thought his name was John, but I was unsure because I had never known him well. But it did seem to me I had recently had a dream in which he had appeared.

He began talking about how he didn't have anyone to talk with. He also had just returned to college and talked about how he didn't know anyone. Being back at college was a little strange for me too, and at first I somewhat agreed with him. But then I realized I really didn't want anyone to talk to; I actually enjoyed being alone. I thought it would be easy to strike up a friendship with this fellow. We could talk regularly and perhaps there would be some benefit in that. But that wasn't really what I wanted, and I figured I would deliberately avoid him. Besides, as I told him, since I was married to Carolina, I could always talk with her. He, however, had no one.

***

I was in a college classroom where tests were being handed back by the professor. The tests were from all different types of classes. The professor said the procedure which was established on the psychology tests would be maintained, in that no test scores would be allowed to be changed.

***

I was in a night club which appeared to be near the college campus. It was packed with college-aged kids. A band was playing and on stage was a guitarist who resembled Jimi Hendrix. People were crowding close to the stage trying to touch him. Some people even grabbed him and tried to pull him from the stage. Although he kept playing his guitar, he was obviously having a difficult time. I pushed in between the guitarist and the other people, and managed to break their grips. The guitarist backed up to the back of the stage and lay down on his back, all the while continuing to play.

When the people again tried to get close to the guitarist, I stood between him and them. The people pushed up against me, until suddenly I looked down and saw some fellow (probably about 20 years old) had managed to pull my penis out of my pants and stick it in his mouth. Revolted I tried to pull back, but found he had a firm hold of me. I stuck my finger down between his teeth and began trying to pry them open to extract my penis. All the while I was worried he might even bite off my penis or my finger.

I finally managed to free myself. I then began pounding the fellow in the face with my fist. I hit him over and over again, smashing his face to mush. I also screamed, "Police! Police!"

I was determined to have this fellow arrested and press charges against him. Even though it might be a minor offense, I wasn't going to let him get away with assaulting me. But I also wondered how I could explain to the police how I had let this fellow get so close to me. Perhaps I would say that I had been drinking alcohol and that I hadn't been as aware as I should have, even though I didn't think I had drunk anything.

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