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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