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I was with Lisa and Sarah and we were in a car driving along the freeway. There was a car a quarter of a mile in front of us and we could hear the music coming from the stereo of that car. The music was by the band Pantera, and was probably music from the Cowboys From Hell CD. As we drove along, the music from the car in front of us never got any louder or softer because we were traveling at the same speed and therefore never got any further away, or any closer either. I remember eventually driving along a road that was probably Meeker Avenue in a town not far from my own, the street I used to get off on from the freeway when going to work at the place I was employed at from 1990 to 1993. We could still hear the Pantera music and I realized that the car stereo in our own car was playing it now, not skipping a beat. As we drove along this road, there was a cop car in front of us. I must have had dreamt this part because I got my first two tickets for speeding along a road parallel to this one a few blocks away. As it turned out, I felt like I was reliving that ticket-getting moment when the cop pulled off to a side street to allow us to pass, then he pulled back onto the street behind us. I then took a right onto 8th Avenue, the street where the building was where I used to work, and then I actually turned into the parking lot of that building. The cop pulled in behind me and when I got out of my car, he put handcuffs on me for some reason, and he was pretty rough with me. There was another vehicle in the parking lot that I can remember nothing about right now, other than it being a vehicle in the parking lot. The cop walked to the other vehicle and started talking to the people who were standing outside of it. The next thing I recall is the cop pushing me into the embankment on the side of the road, a small 10 x 15 piece of landscaped moderateness with two trees and just enough of a barrier so whoever drove by couldn’t exactly see what was happening in the parking lot through that little section of trees. I was pushed into the beauty bark there and I told Lisa to take a picture of what was happening, like taking a picture would show the mistreatment I was being dealt by an officer of the law and the Rodney-King syndrome would perhaps benefit me.
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