Dream of: 24 June 2011 "Loose Windshield"

I had gone to a meeting of a group of 30-40 people in a building in downtown Portsmouth. I thought this type of group had sprung up all over town. The place somewhat resembled a church and the people were sitting in pews as in a church. A lecture was given and finally the meeting ended. People continued sitting for a few minutes and I didn't know what they were going to do next.

I was carrying several bags with me. As people finally started standing to leave, a fellow sitting close to me said that everyone was now going to go downstairs for a party. I, however, didn't want to go to the party - I simply wanted to leave _ and I stood and headed for the door. I thought someone would probably try to stop me, but I was able to leave. I stepped outside onto Chillicothe street (the main north-south street in downtown).

A couple very attractive black-haired girls (probably in their early 20s) walked out at the same time. Their low-cut tops revealed part of their white breasts. I had the feeling they were going to a bar and I was tempted to follow them, but I didn't.

I boarded my car, and before I could pull out, a fellow walked up and pecked on my window. He pointed out that my windshield had come loose and had sunk down about five centimeters. I already knew about the windshield and I knew I needed to immediately fix it. After I drove off, I tried to think of a place where I could stop and push the windshield back in place. I thought I might drive over to the Gay Street House and simply drive right into the House. I could then fix the window inside the House.

As I headed toward the Gay Street House, I reflected how much I would prefer to be in a Spanish speaking country and not have to always talk to people in English. I could imagine going to a meeting, like the one I had just attended, in a Spanish speaking country. After the meeting I would walk up to some people, ask them to pardon my English (I would say "Perdon") and start talking with them in Spanish.

I finally reached the Gay Street House, but instead of driving inside, I parked the car outside. When I stepped out of the car, I noticed that a street went straight through the kitchen of the House. I walked into the House and saw a plain thin blonde woman (about 25 years old) pushing a baby in a baby stroller. She stopped in the kitchen, sat down at the table, and started feeding the baby something. I also stopped in the kitchen, sat down, and began talking with her. I bragged that I once lived in this House for thirty years. Since the house was so opulent, I thought the woman might be impressed.

She spoke several times, but each time I was unable to understand what she was saying. It seemed that she was simply mumbling. I felt embarrassed because I couldn't understand her. Finally I stood up and walked out.

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