I was taking hoppie somewhere, to a reform synagogue I think, although I'm not sure I knew why he wanted to go. I'm driving him in my car down what looks like 1A in Revere. Of course I have to go too, because he'd feel awkward without me. So I'm not sure where we go, and I see the place, it's a white brick building, and I'm not sure if it's this, or the place we passed a few minutes ago. Hoppie assures me that it's this one, but I've already turned around to go back to look at the other place, which proves to be a church of a denomination that didn't register. I turn around again, and we get into a huge fight, don't know about what, but I'm furious. I put the car in park (on the road, mind you!) and start to get out. Then I decide I'm not being reasonable, so I pull into a parking lot. Well, apparently it's very slippery, because when I put the car in park, it slides back about three spaces along with the beige SUV I parked next to. I turn the car back on to try to pull it foward, and I realized somehow the handles of the doors are locked. Then I just burst into tears and demand that he let me go home to my mother. I can't believe I've gotten into an accident with my beautiful car, and somehow it's my fault, although other than not being in this parking lot, I can't think of what I might have done differently. He gets my cellphone and calls his parents and tells them what a big baby I'm being. I have responsibilities and committments here, etc, etc. and shames me into staying. Then he goes around to detangle the cars we can leave and get back to where we were going. I'm finally able to get out of the car, and survey the damage. Which is pretty superficial except to the SUV's seat belt which is worn thin near the point of breaking. (Do I know? Don't ask!) There's some foam stuffing of some type on my car, and a bit of SUV paint, but nothing serious. So I say, "I guess I'll leave them my name and contact information?" to hoppie, hoping I won't have to. But he nods so I scrounge a piece of paper, and write down my name and address and I want to write "I'm sorry." but when I thought it about it later in the dream, I couldn't remember if I actaully did. Then we get back in the car, and drive to a male friend of my brother's. (I don't know where this is coming from either, but I recognized the girl as one of my brother's old high school friends.) There were about three other people over when we got there and hoppie started launching into an account of the car and the fight, and I went to the bathroom to get away from it. In the bathroom, I accidentally knocked over the girl's makeup kit which was resting across the wastebasket. Hell of a place for it! (Idiot!) It was a hugely long garbage can, and a hugely big makeup case, so retreiving everything took time, and I wasn't sure if I should tell her about it so she could clean it before using the stuff in it. I probably should have cleaned it myself, but I can't say that occured to me. I don't remember what happened after that.
So I wake hoppie us to kiss him goodbye (yes, it's dweeby, but he complains if I don't.), and he says his formulaic: "have a nice day" and then adds: what time is it?
Me: It's early, go to sleep.
Him: (closing his eyes momentarily than reopening them.) How early?
Me: 5:50. (long pause) Why do you ask?
Him: huh? Oh, because it's dark.
Me: Yes it is.
I don't know why I felt like sharing that.