I'm driving a cop car down the freeway... what's more, the steering wheel (and I) seem to be on the right-hand side, European style. I have passengers, who I know, but I have no idea why I'm driving a Pigmobile, except that I'm sure there's a legitimate reason for it (ie, I didn't steal it).

Suddenly, I see another cop car drive past, then pull a fast 180 and turn on its sirens. I start applying the brake, but for some reason it doesn't slow the car down nearly as fast as it should. The cop drives around me and pulls into a parking lot, and somehow manages to convey to me that I need to do the same. I finally come to a stop, and am shocked and amazed to see none other than William Shatner get out of the car and approach my window. He asks me questions, like who I am, where I'm from, where I've been and what my occupation is, taking notes on a little pad. Then he starts making smalltalk on seemingly irrelevant topics. I try desperately to remember why I know his name and face, and where I've seen him before... how confused my poor subconscious memory is!

I finally get sick of chatting it up with him, and ask why exactly it is he pulled me over. Seems as though the US Treasury, a subsidiary of Visa, has been tracking my expenditures recently, and they've discovered that I've gone through $6000 in the past month. This strikes me as odd... I know that I spent more money than I should have over Spring Break, but $6000 seems pretty unreasonable. But this aside, wtf cares how much money I've been spending? I present this question, and he replies that $6000 is just way too much money for a person to spend in such a short amount of time. Bad for the economy, he says. "Bad for the economy?!" I exclaim. "Do you realize what kind of consumerism holds our society together? America can't get enough of people who spend large amounts of money. If people stopped spending money, the economy would collapse!" Shatner, taken quite aback, tells me to watch my mouth, and informs me that I shouldn't waste my breath arguing with him. "I'm a huge, important celebrity, and I have the backing of the American government. When I take you to court, it's going to be your word against mine, and no jury in America would ever pick you over me. You're screwed." He goes on to imply that I'll probably either be put in jail for life, or sentenced to death for my heinous crime.

Later on, he's gone, and I'm trying to recall the events that occurred to someone else. Unfortunately, I can't remember who exactly it was that pulled me over, but I know it's the guy that played Captain Kirk on some TV show:
Me: "Yeah, you remember that guy who played Captain Kirk?" Him: "Um, yeah... I think it was James T. Kirk"
Me: "No, no, that's the name of the character... I'm talking about the actor, who played him."
Him: "No, I'm absolutely sure it was James Kirk... don't you remember that other guy, who would always say, 'Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a... something.'"
And try as I might, I can't get this person to realize that I'm talking about a TV character rather than a sea captain, or some such.

Bethany is standing in a bookstore, behind a counter, she's wearing an apron, obviously at work. I'm standing behind a rack of books nearby, watching her. I feel dirty, like I'm stalking her, but I'm just watching. Her hair is down, which it never is at work, and rarely is in reality, it also is lighter colored than normal, more blonde.
She looks beautiful.
She waits on people graciously, and is always smiling, but she's not like that, she just has to do it for tips.
She leaves, work to smoke a cigarette, I've never had a smoking fetish, but it's a total turn on to watch her smoke.

Truth be known, I have a huge crush on this girl (in reality), but this in this dream I seemed to be so much more obsessed than I really am.
It could be that I'm just disappointed about how things are turning out between us as the prospect of "more than friends" gets bleaker.

So she leaves work and gets into her little blue VW, which is covered with various snowboarding stickers, and she drives away, I sit on a bench in the bookstore. I seem depressed, so I get in my car, and drive away, going home.

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