Writing: The Denial of Johnny Hart

Had A bizarre dream last night... I dreamt that I was riding in some strange obscure person's automobile, driving through what appeared to be a drug war. The streets were filled with drug dealers just beating the life out of each other, and my driver who ever the hell he was, decides to stop get out of the car and abandon me. The auto gets swarmed by all these faces and I look out the window, trying to make small talk, "Hey, Johnny Hart, is that you?" Gruff face replies, "No." "I thought I know you, didn't you go to my high school?" Gruff voice,"No." At that moment, someone jumps into the driver's seat and we plow through the mob, hitting at least eight druggies on the way. I look over to see Shannon, sitting in the driver's seat, she proceeds to take us to this grocery store, in the heartland of the ghetto. We shop for our usuals, bread, meat, cheese, and lots of other junk. We wait in line, get rung up, and it's $14.86, I looked at the cart, I looked at Shannon, who appeared to be out of money. I reach into my poor pocket and pull out $17.00, I give it to the fat lady sitting behind the register on a stool, who obviously didn't ring up 75% of what was in the cart. I pushed the cart throught the automatic doors, while some lady whispers, "That should have cost more." I get outside, and everything disappears, Shannon, The strange car, The shopping cart, the fat lady.... I see an old man. He looks at me and moves on... I still can't believe I got $120.00 worth of food for less than 15 bucks, and it just vanished... I was all alone... I couldn't move for fear I would end up back in druggie land, lying on my back with my brain bleeding into my nasal cavities or something worse...