Chase

I dreamt I was working for a technology firm in Seattle. I ended up traveling to Moscow, where I met two people from Bolivia, who were working there temporarily. The guy had been there longer than the girl -- she was talking about how winter in Bolivia happens in June and July. I marveled at this, and admired her winter coat that she had just purchased.

I was looking up movie times in Seattle, even though I wasn't there. Suddenly, I was there, at my office. The couple from Moscow were with me. Then, we were eating at a restaurant with some other co-workers. I was holding hands with the Peruvian girl, only as friends.

At another table, a girl turned away, but I recognized her as someone else from the office. I said, "Don't hide from me!" She laughed. Then, she said, "I thought we were dating."

I smiled and said, "Don't say that. Can't you see I'm holding hands?" We all laughed.

Somehow, the topic of me producing a television show came up ... we discussed how tough it was to produce something independently , and how Hollywood was notorious for ripping off good ideas from up and comers.

After discussing this, I ended up getting into some kind of mythical loop -- I'd be on the street. A beat-up Volkswagen van from the 1960's with it's rear squished in to the front would appear, and I would get shot. Every time this would happen, it seemed I was walking along, discussing the television show or movie with friends.

Finally, after a few times of this, I found an abandoned car door and held it up at the precise moment that the van would appear out of nowhere and I would get shot by someone in the van. After this, I ran, and told my friends, who were with me, to scatter.

A big burley, bald wrestler type (looked like Brock Lesnar), appeared out of nowhere and started chasing me.

I was one step ahead of him, but he seemed to be able to follow my scent. I ran into a shopping district ... went through a store, into a back alley that faced a canal, crossed the canal, went into the back of another store, came back across a bridge when the big guy followed me over, ran, ran, ran ... and all because of a TV show.