i'm driving a big red truck downtown in the snow. there is a road rage guy next to me and he keeps getting into my lane. so after the light turns i gun it, trying to get some space. he guns it also, and the road narrows, i swerve left, hitting a snow pile and end up the wrong way in a one way. except there is so much snow i can't get out. i have to ramp up, dukes of hazzard style, at the last second to avoid an oncoming truck. whew.
then i'm at some apartment. there is a friend working very late at a diner by herself and i am worried about her safety. she is telling me on the phone that she is fine, everything is fine. i want to come down there to make sure. maybe bring her a weapon. something bad seems like it's going to happen. not because i believe it, but because i'm not sure if she believes it. i don't remember how it ends.
later i'm at a party in a different high rise apartment. it's super swanky. with modern charcoal couches and yellow diamond pillows. there is an amazing fireplace in the center of the room. everyone here works for some music industry company, although i don't know which one, and i am only someone's guest, so i don't know who anyone is. everyone is sitting and drinking cocktails. there is discussion on the music business, humming along at a dull murmur. at some point someone stands up and raises their voice. it's a tall, goofy looking guy with salt and pepper curly short hair. glasses. brown sweater and pleated jeans. he's telling this young kid his band sucks. i only remember bits and pieces of the dialogue but it went something like this:
goofy: "absolute trash. not going anywhere. you can't even hear him in the mix and when you do he sounds like shit."
kid: "well he's a great frontman and we like his voice."
goofy: "no. no you don't! you're making a huge mistake and you're idiots!"
random person: "maybe over time his voice will improve?"
goofy: "no! stop coddling this kid! don't you see how wrong they are? it's insane! why would you waste any time at all with this guy when i'm telling you it's not going anywhere?!"
me: (under my breath) "bullshit."
finally there is silence. goofy sweater guy is still standing there. slightly shaking in his indignation. kid looks sad, even though his floppy hairstyle obscures his sad kid face. no one knows what else to say. i start thinking about what kind of moron this man is. who cares what this kid wants to do? if he asked for your opinion, can't you give it without going all ragey? eventually i stand up. everyone looks at me as i walk up to goofy sweater guy and get right in his face.
"i'm gonna make a drink, can i get anything for you?"
"no," he says, looking like he wants to goofily swing on me.
i head into the kitchen and the friend who invited me follows.
"dude! don't you know who that is?"
"that's the dude i told you about! he was in foreigner!"
"so fuck him! you don't talk to anyone like that, i don't care who you are. i don't care if you played keyboards for foreigner on one tour, or if you clean toilets, or shovel elephant shit. it ain't right."
i go on about how the kid's future is his own malleable realm of probabilities, that it's unacceptable to be demanding or angry about anything that isn't yours to decide. blah blah blah. i can't remember anything else.