Dream of: 29 September 2003 "Spinning The Pen"

I was sitting at a kitchen table with my father and my mother (they were probably in their late 50s). Somehow we began talking about the amount of time they spent with me. Waxing angry, I stood up from the table and growled that they never did anything with me and that they didn't even know what I liked to do. My father replied that he had gone to some bars with me and that he knew I liked to walk around in bars. I raged back that I didn't like to walk around bars, and then I stormed out of the house.

I walked around outside on the streets of Portsmouth. There was simply nothing to do here. I didn't even have a job; I was just drifting. The only places open were some bars. So maybe I would go to a bar. I recalled a bar on Chillicothe Street which I might visit (close to the downtown Museum). I had been there before, but it was no fun just people dully sitting around, people like Bob Morris, an old classmate from high school.

Nevertheless, my feet led me to the bar and I walked inside. I looked around, and saw nothing of interest, and was ready to leave when a young fellow I knew stepped up to me. Four other fellows were with him. He was friendly and introduced me to the others. Although I already wanted to leave, I sat down at a table with them. I thought they were going to order beer, but I didn't want any. They didn't order anything, however; instead one of them pulled out a dark blue pen and they began spinning it, as if in a game. First one person then another would spin the pen. Finally I tried. I could only make the pen spin a couple times, whereas the others made it spin many times. I could only use one hand. I thought I could learn how to do it with time. But I wasn't that much interested.

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