I am driving to a church where I will be at a Native American ceremony. I drive backwards down a freeway against traffic in an attempt to turn around and go in the opposite direction at the last moment. Sharon and other Indian women see me arrive and come out to greet me. I walk down a path looking for a way back to the freeway, but only see a dirt path and then a driveway up to someone's nice house. I smile at Sharon and shrug my shoulders, deciding to go through with it after all, since I can't find a way out. As I walk into the community room, I ask her what I need to be doing to help. She says, "Tie 15,000 tobacco ties!" I say, surprised, "15,000?" and repeat that, shaking my head in wonder! I enter the room to see the tables and chairs all set up: square tables for four. I drive my wheelchair to the back of the room and move a chair out of my way by bulldozing with my wheelchair. An Indian boy comes up, one of several that had been running and playing on the steps when I arrived and look like Theresa's boys! He says to me I shouldn't move things around to suit myself like that. I say, "Oh well. I like to sit in the back where I can get out quick if I need to." I then look longingly at the front where I would be able to see the expensive things better. Then people come in and a couple of ugly old farts (businessmen) sit at my table. I'm cutting pies up into 8ths and wrapping them. They make negative comments about women's places. They are rusty, traditional men. Two of the worst decide they are attracted to me. I laugh and start singing a song about "just my luck!" This one likes me and then Mr. R comes up and says he likes me. I skip over to my apartment building to change clothes, singing this song, and I follow myself watching. I feel the possible threat of a man (crazy) attacking her/me but keep thinking, "No. that won't happen," and see a crazy man who avoids my eye contact, and I keep moving out of the building back toward the church.