The night before last, I dreamed I was going someplace with Shootin' Buddy. We were walking down a sidewalk in a kinda run-down urban neighborhood. I remember the sky was clear and blue, and all the vegetation was very green and verdant.
We were passing an out-of-business, vacant service station on our right; not a gas station, but a mechanic's shop, where the service bays came right to the sidewalk. The doors to the bays were open. There were these two dudes coming the other way down the sidewalk and they actually stepped into the street to swing wide around us. Shootin' Buddy was a little ahead of me and to my right, and as they passed him and drew abreast of me, I suddenly got this sinking feeling in my gut, like 'something bad is about to happen right now.'
The dude closer to me starts to say something like "Give it over..." and his shirttail has been brushed back and there's a revolver clearly visible in the front of his waistband. I'm trying to yell something to Shootin' Buddy as I'm pulling my own pistol and just wishing the guy would run away and I don't have a clear view of his partner 'cause he's in the way and he goes for his gat and I'm frozen on the trigger and I reallyreallyreally don't want to shoot this guy why won't he just leave? We're kinda circling, with him stepping to the side and me actually backing into the service bays and he's going to point the gun at me and BANG! BANG!
My own gun surprises me.
And now the bad guy is down and the other bad guy is down and Shootin' Buddy has his pistol in one hand and is on his cell phone and I guess the cops are on the way, and here's where it got really weird the way dreams do, because with no thought to continuity issues, the guy lying there bleeding suddenly has an M16 (A1, Vietnam-era, if you must know,) in one hand and a magazine in the other, and he's laughing at me, and making to load the gun. "Buddy, just drop the gun. Don't make me shoot you again. I'm not kidding."
And apparently he did shoot me because in the next scene I'm in a rehab ward (cleverly filled in from my motorcycle experiences) and everybody was telling me that I was going to be okay and I did okay and all's well that ends well, and then we segued to more normal dream fodder.
That was the first time I've ever had a "frozen on the trigger" dream (that I can recollect, anyway,) and it left me a little rattled, actually.