Las Vegas on a Tour Bus

Last night I dreamt I was on a tour bus in Las Vegas. I have dreamt of this town before, and now I have the name of the town - Gallup, New Mexico - a town where as an outsider you can feel it's a small town and everything is on this main east-west road.

I'm on a tour bus. I think Mike is with me. There are older couples on this bus, some twenty-something girls. I don't think we were "touring" as much as we were being motorcoached to Vegas.

The driver stops us in front of a hotel on edge of the strip. We all wanted to get to our fancier hotels, farther down. But the driver stops us here. He doesn't say way, we are just stopped. He gets off the bus and goes into the hotel that is there.

The hotel we are in front of looks like The Pavilion in Columbus - a white wood building with a second-story balcony. Very 1860s, 1890s feeling.

At first we think the bus driver will be just a minute. But he doesn't come back and doesn't come back, and we all start talking among ourselves about what we should do. I say to Mike - he's flitting in between looking like my ex-boyfriend Dave and himself - well, what do you want to do today? Mike says he doesn't know. I say, I'd like to go hike up the foothills near by. He says OK. I feel resentful toward him - I could have said I'd like to stay inside the casino all day as well, and he would have agreed just as easily.

Some of the people have gotten off the bus, as it's not moving and there does not seem to be a bus driver. I am contemplating getting off, but I have not done so yet. I look at Mike, and I am not happy that he is my travel partner. I see the other people getting off the bus. I'm not moving yet.

Dream.