I dreamed that I ran into an old friend from my childhood (who really wasn't an old friend from my childhood except for the purposes of this dream - I have no idea who it was in r/l, unlike most of my other dreams) who used to make things, specifically amps and speakers. As we're reminiscing, I show him some plans I had drawn up for one long ago which never materialized. He gets serious about these plans and begins putting it together right in front of me. But he needs some specific architectural drawings, so we go visit some nuns at this research facility, but their plans are locked down pretty tight, which requires they badge me. I end up following this other guy around who's in a wheelchair and he makes his way in and out of document rooms, checking out manuscripts and drawings. It's all feeling very Stargate (the movie) what with the scrolls and trying to decipher symbols and running around this facility. The nuns are all a titter and most of them are now naked. How odd - at first they were concerned with my whereabouts because I was wearing a visitor badge, and now they seem self-absorbed in their quest.
I run into the Base Exchange (I almost always end up at the Base Exchange in my dreams, I have no idea why) where I see my mother coming in from the parking lot through the windows (its dark outside) but I realize the nuns took my all my clothes. Rather than be ashamed at my nakedness, I grab a purple Indian blanket and wrap it around my shoulders - unfortunately it was too short to cover anything, but that was okay since an expensive pair of shoes caught eye on sale, I'm ogling those. I thought they were marked down from $139.99 to $3.99 (a hell of a deal) - but a second look shows they were only marked down to $19.99, and that wasn't such a good price (for whatever reason). They were very narrow cycling shoes, but made of out of various colored space-age translucent rubber, and hadn't been fitted with pedal clips yet, allowing them to be used as a walking shoe. Somehow I'm clothed again, and walking down the Macintosh isle. The isle is filled with what looks like gift cards. One of the gift cards show the 'PC' guy from the "Mac & PC" commercials, only there is actually video embedded in this gift card, the entire face of the gift card is in fact, a moving video. It's a pretty humorous card, but since its suddenly 1984 I wonder how they know who the 'PC' guy is since the commercial is a fairly recent development. At the automated checkout, I start pushing buttons to order a Burger King Whopper, and one of the options is to pay by Base Exchange Macintosh Account. I no longer live on base, so I slink away at this point, forgo my burger and something else catches my eye. But jaceman comes up to the counter to pay for his wares (and by this time the checkout is staffed) and as Jace gives his items to the man to scan, he's given a chit for his Whopper. "Cool, I get a free Whopper!" Jace tells his pals, he thinks its free, but because I was there before him and failed to cancel it out, he accidentally paid for it and does not know it. I consider telling him this, but its just too damn funny to see him brag about his free Whopper, so I remain quiet.
I'm now at USSTRATCOM. Generally I dream I'm outside the inner sanctum of United States Strategic Command because I no longer have my clearance, but today I'm inside. All my old friends are there, and it's dark, and everyone is busy. USSTRATCOM was my worst two-year stretch in the military, and the reason I left the service. I always dream about USSSTRATCOM with great apprehension. The hum of light-tables and video displays is visible from the low, dark cubes. I see Brinkmeyer's cube, and across from it, Joel Winjen, USMC has an office. How ironic, I think (another story altogether). I'm allowed free-reign despite my visitor badge (something which in real life would never happen) and get bored waiting on the nuns & the guy in the wheelchair to finish the discovery phase of their quest. I have to urinate. I start around the maze-like complex looking for a restroom (always the maze & restroom!) All the ones I find are either filthy, occupied, or otherwise unobtainable. I usually go in one door down a hallway, and come out another, adding to my confusion about where I am at any given time, though I do continue to run into the two nuns and the guy in the wheelchair. They think I'm still helping them, and I do actually pick up and carry two old 16mm portable projector screens and carry them back to the second house I lived in Rhome, TX when I was in High School. The guy in the wheelchair is now driving around the outside of my house in this very small car which gives one the impression that his entire body is under the surface of the earth, and only his head and hands are visible in this tiny vehicle which appeared to be more like a miniature golf cart.
I'm back at STRATCOM and still looking for a bathroom. I go a little further out and see a couple of people in uniform chatting outside a German bistro-style food stand which is closed. One of the men is a marine in the new camouflaged utilities and it looks like he's drinking Soju. I wonder if he just returned from Korea. Nah, it's probably German apfel-wine. I go a little further and there's a large black lady interviewing with someone in the hall which opens to the theater. No bathrooms! I'm at these tall, tall, doors, three of them, which are the exits to the wing. I turn back around and there are door everywhere, but none of them marked restroom. I pass the theater, I pass the black lady having the interview, and just as I'm approaching the German bistro-style stand, it dawns on me that there should be a restroom in the eating area! I turn to find it, and the Marine stands to go as well, as does the man he's been talking to. Great - this always happens in my dreams - company at the last minute! There is indeed a restroom there, and there are many stalls. Because the marine is right behind me (in fact, holding the door open behind me, waiting for me to enter) I take the first, middle stall, just as you enter the door. The marine takes the stall to my right, and the other gentleman takes the door to my left. The toilets are filthy, as if some drunk has thrown up in them. I notice under the partition that the marines toilet is in the same condition, and he's on his knees vigorously cleaning it with toilet paper. I begin to clean my bowl as well. I ask the marine, "So is that soju you're drinking?" Before he can answer, the guy in the left stall says, "Ahhh.... you like sojo? You love this soju! Here - you try!" I look under the left stall, and the marine looks under the stall and the guy he was talking to outside (who is now to my left) is a ROKAF Korean Air Force officer in his blues. He hands me his bottle of soju - "Very good, top of the line." he says to me. He makes a 'drinking a shot' motion and says, "You say, 'Ho Jo'" when you drink. Korean custom." He repeats the gesture and the saying. "Means, "Holy Smoke"" I uncap the soju and try to mimic his movements and words. The stuff comes out like honey. I try to snap the cap back on, but cannot, more soju-honey oozes from the opening. I wipe it off the bottle with my hand and eat it. Every time I try to close the bottle, it oozes more, and I repeat the process. Finally, I get the lid back on and try to tell him, "I couldn't get it closed." Only thing is, I slur my words - badly. I try to tell him, "Damn, this is some strong shit." since I've already begun slurring, but that too, comes out slurred. He's not laughing, or smiling now, and he's holding a sign. I have to tilt my head to read it, and it's scrawled in red ink on a yellow legal pad. It says, "My sin is enjoying watching you die from a heart-attack." It wasn't soju - it was laced honey! I begin to panic, my heart races, I turn to the marine who's' still kneeling in the stall watching all this play out from under the partitions, only he can't see the legal pad to read it, and I can no longer talk. My heart is racing and my body is tingling - I'm going to die and can't do anything about it. I wake up with my heart still racing and my body still tingling from the rush of dream-inducing adrenaline.