Monday, June 26, 2017

Dream Park...

So, I dreamed I was working in this little drug store in this tiny town out in the middle of flat-ass nowhere. The town was some houses and trees and a church and a courthouse and a few commercial buildings surrounded by billiard-table-flat farmland in all directions.

The drug store was in a strip center at the end of the three or four block main drag, along with a barber shop, a package store, the post office, and a little bar & grill sort of restaurant. And across the street was a park with some picnic tables and...this is how I knew it was a dream...a 50 yard pistol bay with a covered firing line.

So, like I said, I worked at the little drug store across the street from this park and, this being weird dream small town, the drug store closed at 9PM. I'm locking up, it's high summer so it's just starting to get to twilight, and I see two vehicles I recognize in the parking lot of the park across the street.

So I drive over and park my car (for some reason my car is the red Porsche 924S I had back in Georgia) and pull my ears on and wander over to the firing line on the pistol bay, where Jack Clemons is getting some pistol shooting pointers from Bruce Gray.

I sat and eavesdropped for a bit, but it was getting on toward full dark and, while the firing line was lit and there were a couple mercury-vapor lights in the parking lot, the pistol bay itself was unlit and the steel was starting to get hard to distinguish from the backstop. Plus, an evening fog was starting to rise.

Bruce suggested we all grab a bite at the little bar & grill across the street to give the fog time to lift before heading home..."People get in wrecks in this stuff all the time," he opined...and so I walked back to my car to move it back across the street. As I was unlocking the car, this dented hooptie with different-colored fenders and doors rolled to a stop on the street in front of me.

"Hey..." yelled the guy in the passenger seat.

"Sorry, buddy, can't help you. I gotta go," I blurted as I finished opening the door and started to climb in.

"Hey!" Now he'd opened the passenger door and hopped out and was making a beeline for my car. I looked around the parking lot, but Jack and Bruce had already left and parked at the far corner of the parking lot across the street. I locked my door and debated fastening the seat belt or leaving it unlatched so I could access my gun better.

I started the car and fished for reverse. The dude was almost to my door.

And I woke up.