Some people and myself are on vacation. We're driving home. I'm driving. I need to stop at a rest area to pee. I pull over. It's a bumpy ride and I have some trouble getting the car to stop. We all get out. I can't find a bathroom. A woman calls me over to see a big booth with used clothes in it. I think, "Great," and I start to sort through them. I find some I like and take them, feeling a little guilty. Then I find myself putting some back from my own clothes in the car. I'm trading all my old things I don't want anymore for old things that are new to me. It helps me feel less guilty. I have some baby outfits. I comment that they are too small for the baby now. I say, "Hey, you don't have to leave the hangers too." Then I see a Mexican skirt of mine that I like and I say, "No, don't trade that one," and I take it back. I go to the car and come back. A young good-looking cop is there. The woman says, "I told him you were driving." I realized that I was the only sober one in the group. Everyone else had been drinking. She then says, "We're being fined for taking these clothes." I asked how much the fine is. He says, "$100 each!" I am shocked. Then he asks me to walk over to where we had first been pulled over. He takes my elbow and asks if I can manage. I say, "Of course!" There is attraction and antagonism to him. We go there. He says, "What do you see?" I look and see what looks like a meter box. It says "Department of Motor Vehicles." I say that. He says, "No! Look again." Then I see the ocean, the big waves crashing onto the shore. I say, "Oh ya, that!" He says, "Why are you over here looking at a little rest stop and not over there looking at that?!" I sigh and explain, "We've been looking at that for a week now. We're tired of it and we're on the last leg of the journey for home. We just wanted to stop for awhile." Then he walks me back to the car. It's going to be towed. I think I called to it by name and it came to me. I convince the cop that we are O.K. He and I look at each other warmly.