I am in a large house. High school friend Dora is visiting. She's in the living room. There are two women in the kitchen and I go between the two rooms back and forth to entertain Dora and to get things she needs from the kitchen area. I go into the bathroom, which is at the front of the house. It is made of brick. I can't get the door to shut completely. I see another door that leads to the living room. I go out and try to lock it. It has a lock with two holes that have parts that move down so that it looks like two eyes of a dolly shutting. The first try doesn't work and I do it again, only slower, and it locks. Then I return to the living room, and Dora and Duane are seated there. I then go to the kitchen and find the two women. They put on bridesmaid dresses and I am putting on the bride's dress. We will each take turns wearing it before we take it in to Dora who will be the bride at 8.00 p.m. I see my white satin top and the net petticoats and feel that the dress should be prettier than that and decide it will have a long satin skirt over the net. The two women, one dark-haired, bring the bouquets they had made - satin with a white gardenia. I am very impressed at their kindness in making these. The rest of the bride's bouquet is in the other room; I go to get it. I then see another room I didn't know was in the house, a bedroom where the dark-haired woman lives. I feel she's a CIA spy. It has no walls. I wonder if it gets too cold and rainy for her. I come out, headed for the living room, when Katrina comes and says we need to go get gas for the car. I agree because it would be nice to have all these details worked out so Dora's wedding goes smoothly. I am in the back seat; Katrina is driving. I notice we are going across a bridge to another state and realize she is going a long distance in order to use her Chevron card to pay for the gas. I say, "Hey, I didn't agree to this." She says it's best for her to do it this way. I say, "I think it will take too long and we'll be late to the wedding. I'd rather pay for the gas myself." So she agrees, but we have to stop at a bank first so she can do some transaction. She drives the car right into the bank and parks over by a wall and gets out. I am seated in the car (now a small child car) in my bride's dress feeling conspicuous and embarrassed. Someone I know (perhaps an ex-student) comes up to chat. I feel like an idiot and think, "Oh well, I'm disabled, like may be that will be explanation enough." I look at my watch it's 7.30. I say, "Let's go back now. I'd like to leave enough time to make sure we're not late."