Joey is sitting to my right and I'm facing the sliding side door on the passenger side. I am not buckled up.
We're driving (I don't know exactly who is driving, I know it's a man, though. I can't see around the driver's seat to get a good look, but I can see little thin sprouts of blond, scraggly hairs pointing in all directions and being back-lit by the setting sun to the West. His hair is almost strawberry blond, but the sun is making it glow almost a white-yellow peeking just above the headrest.
My boss, Matt Sterrett is sitting in the passenger seat. Not including himself in the conversations happening behind him, just staring blankly ahead.
There are three men beginning to pass us on the lane directly to the right of us. Big Dave is leading the small pack, wearing his deep, almost blood-red cotton t-shirt with black H-D script across the chest (he came to my store a few days ago and was wearing the same shirt). He's riding a full sized Harley (an older model, like early 90's) in a bright, burnt pumpkin orange bagger. The top box is angular as opposed to the more rounded and flowing designs of today.
I look out the side window and point while simultaneously yelling (a little too excited). "It's Big Dave!!"
Time Travel
Big Dave is sitting in the van with us now. It's as if he teleported in. We are still on the highway and the evergreens along the shoulder are a dark, sometimes prickly blur.
He's sitting on the bench seat behind me and I'm turning even further to my right to talk to him directly.
After I scream (while Big D was will on his bike) Matt goes from being absolutely silent to turning sharply towards me and says, "Shut up!!!"
I giggle, like always when we play around at work.
When he turns around, I observe a little spot of light reflecting off his right ear. "You have your ear pierced! Ya, queer:"
Then I wake up.
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