Dream of: 18 February 2008 "Taking A Toll"

 While I was riding in the front passenger seat of a white 1999 Ford Escort which my father was driving (I thought we were somewhere in Texas), he pulled into a parking place in front of a little store. We sat head-in, so we were looking at the store right in front of us. As we remained seated in the car, I noticed in front of the store a kiosk where tiny little matchbox-sized books were being sold. Pictures of naked women were displayed on the front of the books. Since I knew we were in the suburbs, I thought this was all typical of the area, and I laconically commented, "Suburbia".

Dozens of women were walking in and out of the store, then walking in and out of another store next door. All were young and scantily clothed. I finally realized that lingerie was being sold in the store in front of me and that the women were trying on the lingerie. All the women were beautiful and they all had the most  luscious breasts. The breasts of some were even exposed and some women sitting inside the store were even completely naked. I couldn't believe my eyes. I told my father this was the place to come and sit. As soon as I had spoken, however, I realized my father wasn't interested because he had lost his sexual drive after his prostate cancer. I, on the other hand, was very interested in the lollapalooza before me.

As I scrutinized the firm breasts of the women, I recalled how my ex-wife Carolina's breasts had started to sag toward the end of our marriage. I also thought about Michelle and how extraordinarily beautiful Michelle's breasts had been when I had first met her. Lately, however, Michelle's breasts had seemed to shrink somewhat and weren't quite as enticing as they had originally been. Obviously Michelle's intractable drug use was taking a toll on her body. Michelle, if she were standing in the store, would look somewhat pitiful in comparison to these women.

When my father finally began backing out the car, I became upset because I knew we still had some time and we could have remained sitting there for a while looking at the women.

I spat out something from my mouth onto the dash. It felt like a little piece of wood from a toothpick. My father immediately told me to get the thing off the dash. I wiped off the dash and told him it had only been a piece of wood.

As he backed out, my father began telling me a story. He said when he had been a young man he had lived with a young woman not far from us in Ashland, Kentucky. The woman had been beautiful like the women in the store. He said when he had returned home one day, he had become angry about something, had packed up all the woman's things and her made her immediately move out. He said other fellows who had known him had been "aghast" that he would have done something like that. I wondered if he even remembered now why he had made the woman move out -- it had been so many years ago -- but I figured he probably still remembered why.

After backing out, he headed up a little hill. It looked as if I weren't going to be able to look at the women any more.