Dream of: 14 November 1997 (2) "Searching For Breakfast"
While traveling on a passenger bus, I had met a woman (in her mid 30s) who had been sitting text to me. When we finally reached our destination the downtown area of a town we both debarked and began walking down the street together. The woman had dark brown hair and was wearing a long camel-colored coat. She was rather quiet, making it difficult for me to discern whether she wanted to be with me or whether she just wanted to be left alone. But since it was morning, I decided to invite her to breakfast. She accepted my invitation, and we began looking for a restaurant.
Right in front of us, on our left and abutting the sidewalk, was a Woolworth-style store, with its red facade and large windows. I told the woman that we could probably eat there. I pointed out that tables were set up inside the store, right in front of the windows. But I realized the food at these kind of stores was rather unsatisfactory. When the woman asked me what I would eat, I thought about the meager choices I would have, and finally said I would probably eat some biscuits and gravy. But the idea of greasy gravy didn't sound appetizing. I thought I could eat some scrambled eggs, but that thought likewise was untantalizing. Finally I thought I might just drink a cup of coffee. That would perk me up. But I hadn't drunk any coffee in several weeks. Giving up coffee had been such a strain, I doubted that I wanted to start up again. Finally I decided that it would be better to look for a better restaurant, and we continued walking.
We crossed the street at an intersection. I made it across just fine, but the woman lagged a few steps behind me. Suddenly the light in the intersection changed and the cars began moving before the woman had reached the curb. One small car was racing so fast toward the intersection, headed straight toward the woman, that I thought for sure the car was going to hit and probably kill her. I prepared myself for the impact, just imagining her body being crushed and splattered right in front of me. But the car missed her, passing so close however that the woman's coat moved as if it had been touched by the car.
I became enraged. It was obvious that the driver had seen the woman and had deliberately driven so close to her. When I saw the car stop a short distance away, I ran up to the driver's side of the car and began screaming at the driver. The person inside was bulky and ugly, dressed in a dull gray coat. I couldn't even tell if the driver was a man or a woman. I thought that French was probably the language spoken here, but in my excitement I shouted in Spanish, "No la viste?" The driver was clearly stunned by my tirade. But just as clearly, he or she felt no remorse. The window to the car being down, I reached in and snatched the glasses from the driver's face. As the driver looked at me through dazed eyes, I tossed the glasses over the driver into the passenger seat of the car. Apparently the driver could hardly see without the glasses, and began fumbling around in the passenger seat, trying to locate the glasses.
Seeing that there was little I could hope to accomplish here, I stepped back from the car and began scanning the area for the woman. She had disappeared. But I thought I knew where she was. Smack next to the street was a small park. I walked over to the trees and called out for the woman. In a few moments she emerged from the trees and spoke to me. I had a momentary sense of apprehension. We were in a dark area and no one else was around except the woman and I. And I reflected that I didn't even really know this woman, whom I had just met. If she wanted to do me harm, this would certainly be an opportune spot to do so.
But she showed no signs of wanting to hurt me. She apparently had just wanted to escape from the scene in the street, and now she was ready to continue our search for a restaurant.
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