I had just met a woman with whom I had been communicating somehow for quite a while, but whom I had never actually met in person. I had come to her house, and although my visit wasn't completely unexpected, I could tell that she was surprised and somewhat disconcerted to see me. Although she was friendly, she seemed preoccupied with something, as if I might have interrupted something else she was supposed to be doing right now.

The woman (probably in her mid 40s) had very black kinky hair which fell to her shoulders. In some way she reminded me of my Dallas friend Eloise (who is in her late 40s and has kinky brown hair) and at times it even seemed as if two women were in the room – the woman and Eloise. This woman, like Eloise, seemed financially independent, and like Eloise, could do whatever she wanted with her time and her life.

I had the feeling the woman and I had some matters which we needed to discuss, but for some reason, we couldn't seem to get to them. Soon I noticed my old friend Weinstein also in the room. Then another fellow (about 30 years old) showed up – a tall unkempt fellow with long scraggly hair (brown like mine) – who was a friend of the woman.

Without having been able to really talk with the woman, I walked outside with Weinstein and the scraggly fellow. As the three of us walked along outside, the scraggly fellow mentioned that when he would walk like that, he was in the habit of picking up aluminum cans when he would happen to see them. That interested me, because I thought picking up cans was an excellent idea. Since I often took walks myself, I had told myself before that I thought it would be a good idea to take a plastic sack along with me and pick up discarded aluminum cans which I might happen to see along the way. Of course I had never actually done it, probably mainly because I thought people would look down on me if I did so. But it was refreshing to think someone else thought the same way.

As we walked, I saw an aluminum can on the ground, and I pointed it out to the fellow, who snatched it up. Next I saw a black garbage bag lying over to the side in the grass. I kicked it with my foot, and saw that it also contained several aluminum cans. I quickly called the fellow's attention to the bag and he immediately knelt down beside the bag and began going through its contents.

As I watched the fellow down on his knees, pilfering through the garbage bag, I quickly found myself losing any respect I had harbored for him. True, I had thought picking up some aluminum cans might be a good idea – but this was going to far. This fellow was really into it; he was determined to possess every can he could find, and I quickly found myself repulsed by the whole scene.

Weinstein had walked on ahead of us; I hurried to catch up to him, but just as I was about to reach him, I saw yet a another fellow standing near Weinstein. This fellow was just as unkempt and scraggly as the first fellow, and he also had long disheveled hair (only black, like Weinstein's). I immediately felt apprehensive when I saw the new fellow, so instead of walking right up to him and Weinstein, I decided to glide in and hover over their heads. I knew I had the power to float if I concentrated on it, and I willed myself to rise off the ground, slowly circling in to where Weinstein was.

When I reached Weinstein, he had something in his hand; I quickly realized he was smoking a marijuana joint. I hovered in closer, just above him, and he handed the joint to me. Still in the air, I took the joint from him and took a hit. I had the distinct impression that Weinstein didn't want me to pass the joint to the other fellow who was still standing nearby, and that in fact Weinstein wanted to get away from this fellow. So I quickly pointed myself in another direction and began floating away. Weinstein followed and after a short distance I came back down to the ground and began walking beside him.

We had actually been on a small hillock, or perhaps on top of a levy, and we headed down its side. When we reached the bottom I looked back up and saw the other two fellows had met up and were standing next to each other. I was anxious to get away from them, but I thought we should at least say something to the first fellow, especially since the black–haired woman had introduced us to him. But I couldn't remember the fellow's name. I asked Weinstein what the name was, and he replied, "Gump."

I hollered back, "Gump, we'll see you later."

Gump hollered back at us, saying something about making a reservation to see him. Weinstein hollered back at Gump, saying we didn't need a reservation. Weinstein and I hurried on.

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