Dream 1.9.2018
My brother-in-law, Chad, and me are shopping at a small mom and pop store in a town far away from our own. In my humble opinion, this store is crap. Everything sold here is crap. All I am looking for is a package of Nestle Toll House chocolate chip cookies. I search the store far and wide, like an archaeologist searching for some long lost, precious artifact. I don't find it. And every time I think I've found what I'm looking for, it turns out to be something else entirely. In the end, I buy several packages of frozen meat. Also a zip lock bag full of leftover chocolate chip pancakes. When the lady at the front cash register rings me up, she asks for my social security card. An odd practice one would think for a grocery store, but I hand it over. She says something to me about security and then I leave. I stand outside, waiting for Chad. We drove different vehicles here. I drove his Traverse. He drove the Prius.
At home, later that night, I cook up some of my chocolate chip pancakes. My mom is watching NASCAR on TV. The race is taking place in an indoor stadium, something I've never seen before. Dale Jr. has a nasty crash. While cooking my pancakes, I regret purchasing all of the items from the store.
Chad and I return to the mom and pop grocery store, it seems, just to watch a TV on a shelf. We are mesmerized by the program so much that time slips away. I don't think we buy anything from the store this time. I walk through the parking lot searching for Chad's Traverse but then I remember that I drove my Jeep Wrangler. I love my Jeep. If there is one good purchase I've made in my life, it's the Wrangler. A solid vehicle. It gets me from A to B and C to D. I tell Chad that I have no idea how to get home. He doesn't either. I tell him I'll follow. We drive away.
I don't recognize any landmarks or surroundings as we go. We end up in a town that looks like Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania. Somewhere along the drive, we switch from driving cars to riding bicycles. We find ourselves in a town that one might find in an old Tim Burton film or lying within the stanzas of a Danny Elfman orchestrated piece. The trees are tall with no leaves. The buildings look European. The streets are full of people as if tonight is Halloween and all the neighborhood kiddies are tricking and treating for their candies. I notice several people dressed up as 18th century figures. As Chad and I ride through this quaint town, Chad lifts up into the sky like Elliot with an alien in his front basket. I look for a few minutes and then finally Chad reappears. I ask a nearby child what this town is called. He tells me that it is Vermont, Vermont. I think I might live here one day.
We finally find our way back home. But we don't have a key to Chad's house because I changed the lock. For some reason, my sister and the kids are not home. Chad and I grab a couple of sleeping bags and camp out in the drive way. While lying there, we hear a voice off in the distance. It sounds like an old, crazy drunk. We pay it no heed. As the night goes on, the voice seems to get closer. Worried, we go to the front door to try again. I look on my phone for a key app but am unable to find the correct key. Then the voice says something that grabs both Chad and my attention. "Keith and Chad, I'm gonna kill you!" It is still very dark outside. Chad and I walk away from the house and down the block. We still hear the voice but cannot see a thing. I take my phone and turn on the flashlight. I shine it in the direction of the voice but it is too dark. We see a house with the garage door open. We run for it. Chad says repeatedly that we're going to break in if we have to. We come to the door leading from the garage to the house and it is locked. I try to fit through the doggy door but it's too small. We bang on the door to wake the attention of those inside.
The residents of the house are awake but for a moment they don't hear our cries. Then, when they finally hear us, they shrug us off as if we are the town crazies. We finally see the man with the voice who threatened us. He walks fast into the garage, meaning to do us harm. Chad walks over to him and punches him so hard in the face that he is quickly knocked out. We place the old man in a green recycling bin. He looks like a crazy person. Like the elevator doesn't go all the way to the top floor. I take a nearby bag of dog food and pour it on his face. This wakes him up. Another man is now in the garage with us. This new member takes a metal bucket and hits the drunk over the head with it. This surely knocks him out cold. The residents of the house, now understanding our situation, let us inside to call the police. Dream ends.
I wake up