I knew that I was attending a NASCAR race, though which wasn’t apparent, as I never saw the track, cars, driver, or race. I was with my wife and hundreds of others. We were cozy in a tunnel, under a blanket or tarp, with rain falling outside the tunnel. My wife and I were cuddling and kissing but she was concerned about my girlfriend’s location. She didn’t like my girlfriend and didn’t want her to find us.
My wife spotted my GF walking our way. Hurriedly she moved away from me and hid, urging me to hide, too, which I did. We decided that we needed to get out of there. We got into our long silver minivan. It featured a luxurious cream-colored interior. My wife and I sat in the back row of the long vehicle, kissing a bit.
She said, “We need to go.”
I answered, “Okay.”
We realized that other cars had pulled in on either side. We wouldn’t open the doors. I said, “That’s okay, I’ll drive from back here.”
Putting the car in gear, I reached over the seats and took the steering wheel and gently accelerated forward. We started moving toward another car. My control wasn’t that good. I went to brake and shouted, “I can’t find the brake. I don’t know where it’s at. I can’t see it and I can’t feel it.”
We somehow stopped. I said, “I need to climb over the seats so I can drive.”
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