St. John's Bridge Something like my dream bridge |
I'm driving a pickup truck along a four lane arterial street approaching a bridge in a mid-sized city. I think my wife or someone is in the passenger's seat. I'm in the curb lane. I notice a couple of guys in high visibility coats and pants, the kind that construction workers or first responders might wear. They aren't the same colors. One guy is wearing a blue jacket with high visibility lime green patches. The other is wearing an orange jacket with blue patches. They have stepped off the curb into my lane and are looking up at part of the bridge structure, apparently oblivious to my approach. I move over halfway into the other lane and blow my horn as I drive past. I'm in the center lane now driving up the first half of the bridge and these two guys coming flying by me on powered skateboards or scooters, still intent on their mission, whatever it is, and still oblivious to me. One of the guys has one of those really long Afghani rifles slung over his back.
After the bridge we turn left and enter mall-ville, just one small shopping center after another with a street that meanders through them. I'm in the left hand lane as this is evidently a one-way street. I'm putzing along as one should in a parking lot and I see a group of people coming around a bend into this road. Most of the people are walking on the sidewalk / median, but this one guy is in the middle of my lane. He's got longish hair, carrying a briefcase and wearing a full length fur coat. I'm thinking I should honk at him, or role down my window and say something because he, like the other two guys, seems oblivious to the presence of a pickup truck coming to take him to the promised land. I don't do any of those things but just go around him.
Your dreams are proof you're no more sane than the rest of us.
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