I was eating a meal with Buckner in a restaurant which seemed inside the old Laroy movie theater in downtown Portsmouth. The room was large, with long tables arranged like a German beer hall. When we had finished eating our meal, we rose and walked to another table where we each ordered beers.

Buckner seemed extremely friendly, and as we continued our pleasant conversation, I began looking around the room. Straight ahead of me, behind Buckner, were four women sitting at the next table. They were all probably in their 20s, but I didn't find any of them attractive.

Continuing to survey the room, I noticed the people behind me becoming rather rowdy. Turning around to take a better look, I saw when a certain song came on, about half the people, at the tables behind me, stood up and began doing a dance around the tables. I myself didn't know how to do the dance, and besides, I wasn't all that interested in it; so I of course remained seated. One woman doing the dance caught my attention; she was obviously an aficionado of the dance, and the dance seemed extremely important to her. The dance only lasted a few minutes, and then everyone including the woman sat back down.

I looked at the tray sitting in front of the woman who had so enjoyed the dance. Besides her food, I saw something extremely disquieting: the head of a small monkey, about five centimeters in diameter. The head looked as if it were part of a key chain. I was completely disgusted to think the woman would have the head of a monkey on a key chain. As I continued to stare at the head, I finally realized it wasn't a monkey after all – it was actually a plastic head of Mickey Mouse. In fact it looked as if there were three small heads on a chain, each head smaller than the other. The heads still seemed rather bizarre to me, but at least they weren't as macabre as a monkey's head.

As Buckner and I continued talking, he asked me how many beers I had drunk. I told him I was still drinking my first one. When he gave me a funny look, I told him I wasn't counting the beer which I had drunk earlier with the meal. He said he also used not to count the beers which he drank with his meals, but then he had realized he had a drinking problem, and he had started counting those beers also. He gave me what was left of his beer. I took a sip of it, but it was already hot and I put it back down.

It surprised me to see Buckner come right out and say he had a drinking problem and I began to wonder if the fact that I hadn't counted the beer which I had drunk with my meal indicated I also had a drinking problem. I didn't think I had a problem, but the fact that I hadn't counted the beer did seem to indicate I wasn't being completely honest about my drinking.

As Buckner and I finished our meal, I was surprised by just how mature and open Buckner now seemed; he seemed to have matured a great deal since I had last seen him. I thought I would like to stay in touch with him, and I wondered if he had an e-mail address. If he did, it might be possible for me to send him my dreams on a regular basis. I already sent my dreams over the Internet to four people – Donna, Jacobs, Barford, and my sister. I had discovered just how easy it was to send out the dreams: I only needed to open up my mail page, put the cursor on the names of the people to whom I wanted to send the dreams, and click the mouse button. It would be easy to add a new name to the list. In fact I thought I wouldn't mind having about 10 people to whom I could send my dreams. I mentioned to Buckner that I might be able to send my dreams to him, and he seemed interested. In fact, I now remembered once before I had sent Buckner my dreams for a while, but that I had stopped for some reason. He had seemed to enjoy my dreams before, and I thought it might work out well again.

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