I was driving a cherry picker truck somewhere, professionally, and my ex was with me. The crane arm came loose, so I stopped. At some point, I was on the side of the road, and a girl I knew (only in this world) said something from her car. I came over, hung onto the window frame, and she started driving. I just held on, as she went 40 for a couple minutes, my boots sliding. It wasn't scary or even that unusual.
I met my dad at a fast food joint, who said he wanted me to meet his retarded friend. I knew he was kidding about the guy being retarded. Then my dad and this guy each give me the torn off corner from a $1 bill, but the stranger's was from fake money. Odd, yes. I remember ordering a drink at the counter, which was like a bank counter. The woman rolled her eyes when I said "I'm sure I have change."
Later, I met up with some old friends (Only here, again). They were friendly, generous, and not too concerned with being bright. Two of them, brothers I think, were getting me ready to go on my trip. I couldn't tell you where I was going, only that all I was taking was going in a backpack. I asked the younger if he'd put at least a full spare change of clothes in the backpack, and boots. But which boots. Much ado was to be had about footwear, as I had recently half-melted a pair on the road, as you recall. But they were still the most comfortable I had, so they went.