I'm with somebody at (a/the?) library, looking in a large cabinet for a short cardboard tube that I can put something in - there's lots of cardboard here, being saved for projects, all sizes and colors, including a few tubes, most of which are too long and thin. Here's one, probably a paper-towel roll, flimsier but maybe... I go check it out but it's too short. I find a little Christmas wrapping paper on a couple rolls, and remark to the person I'm with, "Hey, maybe we should use this" - meaning, use it up instead of what she just got new - but we both say, "Nah - leave it," thinking why bother, let's just use all the same paper for everything. While I'm here, a guy comes along that we'd been told was coming to see someone here about the way we do something, or some equipment we use. He's introduced, but he doesn't get that we work here, I think he thinks we're also visitors or library patrons. Well, never mind, it doesn't matter. I go on out, got to get back somewhere, and I'm stepping off the sidewalk when a car comes swooping along and almost hits me. I wave my arms and yell after her, "You almost hit me!" but she doesn't stop - it's a woman with short brown hair in a light blue compact car - and I chase after her a bit, trying to get her to notice what she's doing. She turns around abruptly (the car, I mean) and drives up over the curb onto the sidewalk and toward an opening between a couple of stores. I realize suddenly, she's the one who does that all the time - I hadn't recognized her before. I wish there was a policeman here, wish someone would stop her. I run after her a little more, trying to see her license number, but it's a little out of range. At least maybe she'll think I saw it - but I bet that wouldn't impress her. I go on, carrying my stuff (I've got some bundles or something in my arms, that's why I couldn't run too good), and see across the street a little ahead, Gary Sheets and another friend I'm supposed to catch up with. I start to hurry forward, and about the same time pass by a closed-up storefront restaurant that used to be a chicken place. There's a sign posted that I notice, it says, "(something about fried chicken dinner) - $1.50", and I think how interesting that is, you mean it's been closed up that long? - I thought surely it would've been something since the chicken place. And it sure has been a long time, when was a chicken plate $1.50? Boy. There was something else above that, I hadn't looked at it, but now I'm past. I think I want to see. I should go on, though - but I want to tell Sheets about this, poof. Well, I settle on going back quickly to look, and it says something similar about maybe meat loaf or roast beef. Hokay. I bustle along, and cross the street to catch up with the guys. I tell Sheets about the restaurant, and he's amused too, as I thought he would be. We walk along, beside an open space at least a block in dimension, a sort of park - green grass, a few trees along the perimeter, people walking around. Down at this end there's a line of booths like a fair or carnival might have, all along the short edge and around each corner. (This is at least semi-permanent, no surprise, I'm not taking much notice of it.) Today, I'm seeing something different than usual - above the booths there are large rectangles of color, various patterns, mostly pastels, they look very pretty against the sky. I assume they're just decorative, and I look at them as I go by. (This is on my way home.) As I get closer, though, I realize they're not just painted cloth like banners, they're heavier. I think they're rugs. Wow. My brother and the other guy have drifted away a bit, looking at something, so I have to go back over to them to tell them about this, and we look around for the booth that's selling them. I might just be interested.