I'm motivating down the street on this weird little cart. It's kind of a cross between my "back" chair and a railroad pushcart: very low, made of wood (could almost have been made from an orange crate), you sit on it and pump this bar and it sort of scoots forward. It doesn't exactly have wheels but it goes, or at least it usually goes - just now I'm having trouble with it. I've come up to this corner to meet with my group - we're sort of entertainers, like street musicians (but I don't know what we all do) and Fred is our leader, more or less. We're just gathering together here to get ready for something, but I'm not staying, I've got errands and I'm letting them know. So I go on down the street on my little cart, and it won't "roll" - it just drags along most of the time and then sticks. I have to get up and pull it. I think I look real stupid doing this, and the others are probably wondering why I don't give it up, but I keep it up anyway. I go a bit further, very near my apartment, and run into Sandie, who's just coming this way. She's been staying in my apartment for a while - I've been gone, and I've just come back. She's saying to me that everything's been okay, she got along great, no prob, and she hopes that the landlady didn't mind that the rent check was a little bit short because she was real tight for money right now and she'll make it up later. This surprises me but not a whole lot because Sandie does actually pay her debts, and it should be okay - I'm thinking she only means 3 or 5 dollars. I ask her how much short it was, and she says a hundred dollars. Now I am horrified. A HUNDRED DOLLARS? You've got to be kidding! That is it. That is absolutely the last straw! You have taken advantage of me and I will not stand for it. You get your stuff and get out. You will not do this to me ever again. Et cetera. She's kinda surprised, and says she's sorry, but looks more bewildered at my reaction than anything else. We go inside (this is a complex, and has interior hallways), and pass by the next-door apartment. The lady who lives there has the door open and greets me as we pass by, she's a friend. I go inside, but I can't go all the way in - the entrance is through the kitchen and Sandie's moved a couple of tables into the middle so you can't get by. This apparently is because they're cleaning the carpet or something. Afterward, I go in my car to a friend's apartment - I have something to deliver to her. I knock, and there's a slight delay before she answers, and when she opens the door she doesn't look like I remember her. She's short, a bit stout, has medium-light brown hair. She's been asleep or something and isn't wide-awake, but shortly she remembers me, and says ok, bring the stuff in. I go back to the car - parked on the street across from her door - to get it. (This is some sort of printed stuff.)