Friggin' Duck Stuff

Somewhere toward the beginning of the dream I was downtown and my friend Chris, who I haven't seen in years as he's been in prison, was living in a storefront on J Street. He had the tiny little storefront space all to himself and passers by could look in and see the messy living space he'd made of it. I was visiting with him and I noticed an empty beer bottle and worried about him staying sober, which he needs to do stay out of prison.

The dreams skips foward and I'm with Bryna, at a camp somewhere and we go to the lake. I'm on some rocks and Bryna comes up out of the water all wet and gorgeous and I'm sure some serious outdoor making out time is coming when I hear kids. The SUVs all pull up, mirroring each others movement in a surreal way. A family gets out of the first SUV including at least two set of twins. The kids a hodgepodge of ethnicities, the parents are as white as they come. Two of the kids are fighting and a couple of punches are thrown. This really bothers me. Bad memories of childhood, my brothers and I punching each other.

The kids are on the rocks then and they have a falcon on a lead. The bird is able to float like he's soaring even as he is held still by the two foot long lead. Bryna and I talk with the parents and now their pet duck is there two. The damn duck starts humping my hand. It manages to lock my hand up good between it's two feet and it's bill. I finally get my hand free. We continue talking to the parents only now we're in a living room somewhere. The duck gets my hand again and I'm ready to punch it when it goes off. It goos all over my hand. Disgusting. I swipe at it's head and the I go to the bathroom to wash off the duck goo, trying not to puke.