It’s a beautiful sunny afternoon and I’m walking through a public park. On one side of me is a golf course; on both sides, the grass is green in that way it only gets on the east coast when it’s summer and the light is diffracted by the humidity. But it’s not hot and humid, it’s pleasant. I’m walking along a two-lane paved road passing through the park, I’m wearing my comfy hiking boots and I’m happily tooling down one hill and up the next, for it is a rather hilly park. I’m waiting for my parents to come along and pick me up.
Soon they drive by, in the maroon ’92 Ford Taurus that was once theirs and is now mine. I get in the back seat, on the passenger’s side; the back seat on the driver’s side is filled with boxes. I ask them if they’ve picked up my girlfriend (my current one); they say they did, they took her for a while, but now it’s my turn to ride. I say, no way, let’s get my girlfriend, we can fit her in the center seat in the back. She shouldn’t have to walk!
So we turn around and drive back to get my girlfriend. On the way there, my father comments, “It’s lovely out here, you’d have a lovely place if you just cleaned up out front!” I flash on the place I live, seeing a tangle of gray brush through a sunny window looking out from the entrance foyer. The house I rent is a simple place from the ’70s, somewhere in West Virginia.
About a one minute drive behind me, there’s my girlfriend, walking up a big, grassy hill. We meet her at the top, she’s wearing a black turtleneck and a plaid skirt, with brown boots. She looks lovely! I ask her, do you want to squeeze yourself in the middle, or should we walk to my parents’ place together, it’ll only take a couple hours, but it’s only a five minute drive there.
As I begin to wake up from the dream, I realize it would’ve been most efficient if my parents took one of us at a time, since it only was a five minute drive.