Dreams are weird. Especially when you've had coffee, chloraseptic, and yogurt just before bed. Anyway, last night I dreamed this:
I drove my minivan to a convenience store/gas station and parked way back in the dark corner of the parking lot by the dumpster. I went into the store and got some stuff. When I came back out, I decided that I hadn't really parked in a safe place afterall, so I kind of made a wide circle around the van to make sure there wasn't anyone behind or under it. Coast was clear, so I hopped in and started the car.
Out of the corner of my eye, all of a sudden this guy comes out of nowhere! So I go to lock the doors, but I don't know how to do it because the minivan isn't mine. In all the hubbub, I accidentally hit the gas (instead of the "lock all the doors" button) and go in reverse. I thought I ran the guy over, but I only backed over his right hand. Then he got mad!
All of a sudden it was broad daylight and I realize I've run over the hand of a 70's-looking tennis player with a bandana around his forehead. He kind of looked like Desmond from LOST.
Things that are weird about this dream:
I don't HAVE a minivan.
I don't park in dark parts of parking lots, especially near dumpsters.
What was Desmond doing with his right hand under my minivan tire?