Last night's dream 11/01/09

Last night I dreamt that I was in a white truck. The truck was "tricked out" so that the driver's seat was actually the passenger's seat turned sideways so that the entire truck drove down the road sideways. Needless to say this freaked out anyone else on the road. So I'm driving this truck down the road and before long many, many cop cars come along and not only siren up behind me but screech to a blasting halt in front of me blocking my path. Everyone is being very melodramatic and pulling guns...including, I realize with chagrin, me. I have what appears to be a pistol from probably a gunslinger and it is in my hands and it is pointed in the general direction of many a uniformed officer. I realize this is not my best action and think, "Why didn't I just get out my license and registration?!?!" I think, "Why don't I think before I act? What is it with this impulsive behavior? Is it really SERVING me?" and then I think, "No, it is not serving me and now I am in a pickle and the law is about to shoot many, many holes into me and all because of this dang truck." Then I sigh and I yell, "This here truck is loaded with explosives boys so I'd put those guns right the hell down if I was you!" and I think "Oh for heaven's sake! Am I NOT already in enough trouble? MUST I cause an even bigger ruckus?!?!?" The cops all look at each other waiting for someone in charge to make "the call" and tell them either to blast away at me or to "stand down". "Stand down!" some guy yells with authority and they do. Every one of those cops holsters their weapons and then they start milling around over by their cars because really, it's a small town not some cop TV show and they have never dealt with not only a truck driving sideways down the road but a loony with explosives. I think, "I don't really have explosives..." and then I glance in my rearview mirror and damn it! I do have a truck load of explosives. "Oh, for the love of....!" I think. Then I do a lot of "Tsk." noises because I can't think of anything else to do. "I had to go shoe shopping today, didn't I?" I think as if my desire for shoes was to blame for the strange truck, the cops, and the explosives. We spend about five minutes like that. Me in the cab going "Tsk. (pause) Tsk. (pause) Tsk, tsk." and the cops kind of milling around. I hear some scraps of conversation...they are mostly talking about some sports or Survivor or how uncomfortable their bulletproof vests are. "They are!" I think too and look down to find I am wearing one of the vests. I glance in the mirror again and I have on a COP baseball cap. I can't even recall the number of "Tsks" I make at this point. Then the passenger door is yanked open and Neil Diamond hops in. "Hey!" he says. "Hey, Neil." I say. "Don't get discouraged..." he says, "These things happen..." "Yeah...you're rig..." I begin and then, "No! No, Neil! They don't HAPPEN. Am I a COP? Am I not a cop?!?! Who's truck is this? Why am I driving it? Where is the shoe store anyway? I usually order online!" I look over and Neil is pointing a tazer at me. "You're a little out of control today young lady." he says and tazers the crap out of me.