I'm in the Panda Express parking lot on 164th St.on the East side of I-5 in Lynnwood. I've got my bicycle and even though the kickstand is down, I can't get it to stay upright. It just keeps falling over.
An older woman (someone who came into my store yesterday) comes over and starts to try to help me by giving me "tips".
She's wearing a white Scorpion jacket (like yesterday) and holding a helmet.
We decide that the only way to keep the bike upright is to dig a hold where the kickstand is so it can be lower. We start digging. Through the asphalt and into dark brown, gravely, moist dirt. We are digging with our hands and I can feel the cold mud between my fingers and under my nails.
I stop several times to check to see if the bike will stand on it's own and can't seem to get the right angle. I keep digging deeper until the hole is about 3 feet deep and I just set the bike in the hole.
I'm helping two ladies in my store get some gear. They already have bikes and gear but they say they like me so much, they'll buy more.
We're in a room with yellow walls and a white tile floor and we're just talking about random motorcycle stuff when Chase walks up and asks me, "How's the bike deal going?"
"No one told me this was a bike deal, Chase."
"No one introduced me to them and there was no "customer path."
(When I worked at Harley, we had a very organized system in which a new bike owner would be walked to each department: Apparel, Parts and Service and would be introduced to someone as a "contact" in their department. Brilliant!!! Not so much at EPS, although I've mentioned it a handful of times.)
Kim Boltz is sitting against the wall on the tile floor and she says, "There never was a good working "customer path" and "people would always 'fuck it up'"
Chase and Thad are annoyed and that makes me even more pissed.
I'm in some sort of city, reminds me of Italy. There are cobblestone streets and stone buildings with awnings jutting out over little round tables near the curb.
I'm sitting on the back of a motorcycle and my friend Marshall is driving. Justin Cayou is walking in the street towards us and he waves us to a stop. I introduce him to Marshall, telling Justin HIS name is Justin too.
We start riding. We make a tight right turn and head down a very narrow alleyway.
We come to an impossibly tight right turn and I know I can't make it around but I try anyways.
I'm inching (literally) back and forth until I'm completely stuck.
Marshall, Alyssa and I are leaning up against a bar that sits above a candy shop. Mike Leibold is there and he's holding a rectangle plastic container with pastel colored marshmallow candies on sticks (like lollipops). He offers Alyssa and I one and clearly hesitates to give one to Marshall. After an uncomfortable few seconds of silence he relents and says to him, "What color do you want?" and he holds out his hand where there are three orange slice shaped gummy candies: Red, Purple and Green. I reach for the red one but I know that Alyssa would want that one so I take the purple one and Marshall takes the green one.
Then I wake up.