An actual dream
Act One: I am learning to drive a semi with dad in my neighborhood in east Nashville. Trying to navigate a sharp corner, I roll over a portion of a homeowner's lawn, then get into an argument with him over knot-tying. "I don't know any knots," I tell him. "How am I supposed to tie a knot if you won't teach me?" I plead. He remains stubborn, refusing to help. Furious, my dad and I leave the scene (abandoning the semi, I suppose), and I make my way to Ramer's Grocery (a mom & pop store I worked at in my native Baton Rouge, LA) where I purchase a Baby Ruth candy bar for my dad.
Act Two: I am watching the removal of a maple tree that has fallen across the street landing in our backyard. At that moment, I am munching on, and enjoying, dog food. It is organic Purina. "This stuff is actually really good."
Act Three: Our neighbor directly across the street - not to be confused with the knot-tying arguer - is a single dad with an infant child. I find myself hostage in this man's house. After asking, he informs me, "Yes, you are welcome to leave," either by being torn asunder -- therefore my head "leaving" in one direction, my legs in another, my arms in another (you get the idea) -- or by avoiding and being devoured by the life-size dragon living in his backyard. When the deranged dad takes his kid for a walk in the stroller, I manage to escape and retreat into my house directly across the street. I lay low, watching him from an upstairs window, hoping my skedaddling would not soon be discovered.
I believe the culprit was a spicy Thai dinner earlier that evening.