I am driving my dark blue Jaguar down a dark, wooded road. I slam on the brakes when I notice the car in front of me has stopped. I swerve to miss it and then barely avoid hitting a tree. The driver is a guy I know from work. He gives me a dirty look, backs up and then turns right into the trees. I follow him. Just through the trees is a huge shopping mall. My old flame A is now with me. Together we browse in a music store. She is impressed with the freebies being offered and thinks we might be able to “record a whole song!” I take notice of the recording devices and comment that from the look of the foot pedals, dip switches and tiny windows, that this must be a dream.