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The Stolen Bike Dream
Sep. 16th, 2017 10:09 amWhile my foot heals, my doctor gave me a muscle relaxing medication so I could sleep with this bum foot of mine. I think it might be the cause of a very strange dream I had.
I had ridden my bicycle to a local shopping center to meet some friends and watch a parade. I parked the bike in a small parking space next to another bike and met with friends. While we were talking, I happen to notice a family giving my bike some attention, to the point where their 14-year-old daughter sit on it.
The mom picked up the bike and began walking away with it. Her directional sense was off though, as she started walking right toward me. I stopped her and asked where she was taking MY bicycle. She said it wasn't mine, that she had given it away to charity and wanted it back. I followed her and her daughter into a jewelry store where an unassuming man in a suit seemed surprised to see us.
She told the man that the bike was hers. She explained that she had given it away to charity and wanted it back. I told the man, who apparently was ambushed as an uninvolved third party, that I had bought it at a flea market for $80 and that if she had surrendered it to a charity, she no longer has a claim to the property.
The man was getting his checkbook out and was going to write me a check for $80, presumably to get rid of us. I asked the woman how she knew it was her daughter's former bike. I asked if she recognized any damage that looked familiar, or if she had written her name on it somewhere. The daughter said no and the mother was unsure. I stated then that she could not guarantee that it was her former bike and couldn't take it from me. The man stopped writing the check, giving up on being involved in the crazy.
The woman seemed reluctant to continue and her husband and son then walked into the store. I was getting ready for another argument, when I woke up.
And, by the way, the bike was small and pink. Yes, this was the bike I'd bought and whose ownership I was defending.
In the words of Mr. Mackay from "South Park," "Ummm... drugs are bad...m'kay..."
I had ridden my bicycle to a local shopping center to meet some friends and watch a parade. I parked the bike in a small parking space next to another bike and met with friends. While we were talking, I happen to notice a family giving my bike some attention, to the point where their 14-year-old daughter sit on it.
The mom picked up the bike and began walking away with it. Her directional sense was off though, as she started walking right toward me. I stopped her and asked where she was taking MY bicycle. She said it wasn't mine, that she had given it away to charity and wanted it back. I followed her and her daughter into a jewelry store where an unassuming man in a suit seemed surprised to see us.
She told the man that the bike was hers. She explained that she had given it away to charity and wanted it back. I told the man, who apparently was ambushed as an uninvolved third party, that I had bought it at a flea market for $80 and that if she had surrendered it to a charity, she no longer has a claim to the property.
The man was getting his checkbook out and was going to write me a check for $80, presumably to get rid of us. I asked the woman how she knew it was her daughter's former bike. I asked if she recognized any damage that looked familiar, or if she had written her name on it somewhere. The daughter said no and the mother was unsure. I stated then that she could not guarantee that it was her former bike and couldn't take it from me. The man stopped writing the check, giving up on being involved in the crazy.
The woman seemed reluctant to continue and her husband and son then walked into the store. I was getting ready for another argument, when I woke up.
And, by the way, the bike was small and pink. Yes, this was the bike I'd bought and whose ownership I was defending.
In the words of Mr. Mackay from "South Park," "Ummm... drugs are bad...m'kay..."
