Desperate To Go  I am leaving Nimen, and I drive down the main road to Superhighway 100. I'm followed by a carload of people that are going to a Minnesota Vikings Game. They are really excited. I find them annoying and don't want to be around them. I turn left onto the "on" ramp for Superhighway 100 going east. The car of people is behind me. I'm driving a trike: a motorcycle with three wheels. I merge onto the highway and am really glad to be moving: I'll be home in a couple of hours. I get stopped in traffic. There is a tunnel ahead of us. I see the solid lanes of cars backed up to the tunnel, where the road ends. People are turning around and going the other way on the highway. I get up to the scene that is causing the delay, and see that there is a crater-like hole in the highway for about _ mile, and then the highway starts up again. There is a golf course on the right side of the freeway. Others and I think we should just drive along the edge of the course to where the highway picks up again. There are some streams and swampy areas, but some people have four-wheel-drive trucks and they can help out. There are three tall buildings behind me on the right side of the freeway. I'm in a room with some men. I'm anxious to get moving. One man is a father. He is older and he doesn't do much. There is a younger man there sitting on the floor directing things. This man has one regular leg and one very short leg, that extends about to the knee of the regular leg. This man says that he is keeping Sean Williams, my old roommate from Fishing Haven, and I, to go slow with us because we have caused trouble and he wants no problems. I'm enraged! I want to go now! We have to go up to the top floor of the middle of the three buildings. I'm currently in the building on the right. I go in and race up to the top via the stairs, while the little man takes the elevator. We're in a room where a drug deal is taking place. I realize now why he wanted me to go slowly: because the drugs are illegal. There are several people there doing the drug deal. The drugs are packaged securely. The drug dealers are minorities: either black or Hispanic. I'm afraid of them. Different drug dealers put colors on me, from different substances. I get red, yellow, and blue on me. I get angry and react, but am scared of retaliating against these people because they are black and because they are drug dealers. I fight with them.