Note: This was a dream of mine. I have this warning here because some visitors have thought my life had just gone to pot, when really they were only reading one of my crazy dreams. :)
I was in a big city, and in the slummy section. Everyone around me was male and Latino, and were playing basketball and talking in Spanish. I was wandering around, looking for my boyfriend. I came around a building and saw a smiling Caucasian woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties. I went up to her and she greeted me in Spanish. I kind of sputtered, wobbled my hand to say ’so-so’ or ‘a little’, and then said “Hablo español.” Then, I continued, “¿Hablo inglés?” She replied in English and we walked off talking.
I was in my hotel room with the boyfriend I’d been looking for, who was apparently supposed to be a secret. He was in his thirties or forties. The hotel was supposed to be really nice, as well as expensive. I hugged my boyfriend and said I was going to the bathroom. I left our room, walked down the hall, and went into our bathroom. All the complimentary soaps and shampoos and such had dates from the eighties and early nineties, and looked really grunjy. There were three sinks, a toilet, and no shower. A long mirror was above the sinks. When I finished and headed back to our room, I met my boyfriend in the hallway. He had a towel and was going to take a shower. We hugged.
It was nighttime, and I was in a bathroom in a house, waiting for my boyfriend to arrive. He was a young guy, and different from my other boyfriend. When he came over, we were going to have sex, but were worried about getting caught by our fathers. The door kept opening by itself; bad catch. Every time we’d start, the door would open and we’d stop, paranoid. Finally, I went through the door. I was in a log cabin bedroom that looked like it was at a summer camp. I saw through a large hole in the wall (window?) that my band instructor was running around outisde, chasing Jennifer with a flashlight. Jennifer was retarded, with wide eyes, and she kept repeating something and smiling. Sometimes, she was in a wheelchair. My band instructor shone the flashlight up through my window; I ducked. Then, I went to lay on the bed, but where I could still see outside. I was leaning forward on the bed and Mr. West shone the flashlight; he saw me and glared. I stood up and walked over to the window. He threw the flashlight at me and went to sit against a wall to the right of the window. He had his arms crossed and looked like he was pouting. I threw the flashlight back at him; it hit the wall a few feet over. We laughed and I explained that I’d never been any good at sports as a kid.
I was in my twenties, and walking up a road in a small town. I went to talk to an old man sitting on his porch. He told me he was going to patent his new jelly, and sell it in the city. I nodded and left, walking down the road. I was some kind of special agent. This really tall, completely red figure came walking toward me. It looked like Trinity off of The Matrix, but she was solid red and very creepy looking. She made a lot of people bow to her, and walked on past me. I continued walking down the road until I saw the Trinity lady ahead again, standing on a porch and talking to some normal human men who were agents like me.
I pushed past a few people, saying, “Excuse me,” loudly so the group on the porch would notice me. As I walked past them, I heard one of them say “Don’t let her get past the line.” There was a town line ahead, painted on the road. I got past it, but this young guy ran up to me, trying to stop me. I walked on, glaring at him kind of condescendingly. He kept walking with me, talking animatedly about the case we were on. We reached a hospital and went in.
The guy who had talked about his jelly was in there, half-dead. The agent guy, whose name was Adam or something similar, stood in the hallway. I went to see the jelly man. When I came back out, his relatives were all standing in the hall, crying. They were all black people. I started crying, pretending to be very hurt, because I figured no questions would be asked if I looked like a grieving relative. One of the relatives cried, “He’s going to die! I just know it!” Adam was standing at the end of the hall, waiting for me with his hands behind his back.
I went into a different hall, but Adam didn’t follow me. I went back to get him, sobbing his name. He followed me back to the other hallway, and I dropped the charade. I told him something about the case but I don’t remember what. I went outside and jumped in the air, my arms spread, eyes closed. When I opened my eyes again, I was flying in the clouds. I looked down and saw a map of the United States, just like it looks in a book, with each state a different color and the cities labelled and everything. I was supposed to fly to where another agent was. Some voice said to go to a city in Arkansas, so I flew down really fast and landed outside a country inn. I went inside and the agent I was looking for was on a couch with a bunch of other people.
I walked over and sat beside him to watch TV with the rest of them. The news was on, and everyone was gathered round, watching. It was about the guy who made the jelly, about him being in the hospital, and how the police suspected foul play. I went to my room in the hotel to sleep. The agent I was after went to a room next to mine. I went to bed with a few people, but finally ended up in the agent’s room. After I crawled into bed with him, we punched each other a few times, because he didn’t recognize me. Finally, when he did, we sat up and talked about the case.