Dream of:10 September 2002 "Ceebus"
I been living in a small apartment in New York City for five or six months. It was Sunday morning and I was outside taking a walk with my pet Dalmatian Picasso on his leash. I had come to know the city quite well since I had been here. I was walking down a street called "Highway 20," thinking about all the streets which led to the place where I lived. I walked several blocks.
I remembered the first time I had ever visited New York -- I had visited a beautiful section of town. I hadn't returned to that section this time, and I thought I would like to visit that section again.
I mused about how much I liked New York. I had made three friends, all from different countries. One was from Panama. I still didn't know two of my friends very well, but I had come to know one quite well. Other than those three friends, I didn't really know anyone else in New York.
It occurred to me I hadn't seen Weinstein since I had been in New York, although I knew he lived somewhere here. Just as I was thinking about Weinstein, I turned a corner, and saw him sitting on some steps leading down. He saw me we greeted each other, but not effusively. He looked about 30-35 years old. He was wearing a fuzzy white sweater which was open, like a jacket. We talked. A car with some other fellows was sitting near us and he was planning to go somewhere with them.
He mentioned that there was a store nearby where I could take all the receipts of things I had bought. With one dollar and all the receipts, I could obtain some lemons. It seemed that it was a big deal to go to this store and go through the lemons.
We talked a bit more. He wasn't particularly friendly. I thought I should ask him how his parents were. But before I did, he said goodbye, turned around, boarded his car, and left. He was going with the other fellows to a park somewhere. I felt disappointed that he hadn't invited me to go with him. He hadn't even said he would see me again sometime. He had simply left.
Picasso and I walked on. I noticed I could see my shadow and I could tell that I was wearing a black cap which pulled down over my ears. My hair was sticking out from under the cap. I wondered if Weinstein had been ashamed to be seen with someone dressed the way I was. I figured I hadn't been dressed "hip" enough for him. I acrimoniously thought Weinstein had been with some of his gay friends, since I knew he was gay. I probably wouldn't have fit in with his crowd anyway.
We came to a little couch sitting on the sidewalk. A black dog was lying on the couch and a man was standing behind the couch. I stopped for a moment and started petting the dog. Its fur was extremely soft. The dog was wearing a yellow collar. I asked the man the dog's name and he said his name was something like "Ceebus." I commented about the softness of the dog's fur.
Picasso and I finally walked on.
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