More grinding anxiety

I've been arrested for some crime, which I didn't commit, and I'm waiting in a crowded detention center. Unfortunately, I also have a small baggie in my pants pocket. I try to figure out how to get rid of it in the crowd. There is a table next to one wall where there are various small objects--ashtrays, etc. I surreptitiously lift one and place the baggie underneath it. A few moments later one of the police comes by and pokes around on the table, eventually lifting the ashtray and finding the baggie. I affect nonchalance. He hands it to me and asks if it's mine. I'm happy to pick it up, since that means my fingerprints will have a legitimate reason for being on it. I deny ownership.

Nevertheless I next find myself in prison. There are men and women both there, and various disguting things occur--one prisoner shits on the valued comic book of another, for instance. As I look around at the haggard and disturbed faces I realise that they are all crazy, that in fact all prisons are insane asylums.

I wake distressed.

Test your strength

So it's night, and I'm in a gas station. I'm there to try my strength against a machine which looks a lot like the ab machine at the gym--two wings to rest your arms on as you do that painful butterfly motion. The room is at the back of the station, where I've been led by a large black man. Using this machine is something like the carnival booth where you hit a springboard with a giant hammer and try to ring the bell. The black man is concerned that the task will be way outside my abilities, and he is reluctant to let me try. He is finally persuaded and tells me that the cost is $10 a shot. I look at the machine, and at him, and realise that he is probably right. I offer to give him five dollars and just pretend to have tried. He is relieved and takes my money, and refunds also the $1.50 that I paid to get in the station for this. I'm impressed with his honesty and concern.

I leave and walk around the back of the station where I've parked my bicycle. As I approach it I see a dark shape in a small hallway near the bike. Somewhat alarmed, I hurry to the bike and begin to unlock it. The shape emerges from the hallway and is revealed to be a pudgy adolescent boy with his hands handcuffed behind him. He wants me to release him, but I think he must be a criminal of some kind and refuse. I hold the bike in front of me as a shield and in preparation for throwing it at him if he makes trouble, but he is more distraught than dangerous. I jump on the bike and ride away, waking with a start as I do so.