I was standing at the water's edge with my maternal Grandma Jane.  My (deceased) maternal Grandpa Gerald was fishing and we were helping, somehow.  He wasn't around, though.  We pulled up an eel or two.  I thought it was wasteful they were only going to take the brains of the first one.  Then we went inside a large stadium.  There were plastic cups left sitting around from whatever event had taken place, and I started to clean them up to feel useful.  I was told not to, though, and I got in line with everyone else for some sort of march.  The lining up was ineffective.  I was supposed to be in front but was in the very back, or something.  There were two types of uniforms.  The people in front of me had Celtic looking wear.  I was sent down to the garage to park the van. I did so, and was then walking from a house of some sort with a casserole dish through the garage to another building.  As I stepped into the 'garage' a man followed me.  He was perhaps a boss of some sort, so we had to put up with his immaturity.  I was not alone with him.  There was another girl.  I walked through a room carrying the casserole dish unconcerned- I thought his interests would be directed toward the other, thinner girl.  Yet he followed me.  He hit his head on a low hanging light.  I turned around and made a comment that it was a sign he doesn't belong here, and then I continued on.  He had a casserole dish lid and lowered it in front of my face, stopping me, 'making a move' on me.  He was a slimeball and I didn't want anything to do with him, but I was very caught off-guard by his actions as I did not expect to be his focus.