A country walk yields a playhouse for Aunt Carol

Well, it was just a prospect. I had yet to run it by her. But as I was walking down a country road, I took a turn, thinking I'd take a shortcut through someone's ranch. I whistled while I walked and tried to be loud so that if someone was there I could get a greeting in at least before they tried to shoot me. 

I wound up spotting Tom Hoskins, the grumpy old dude from YC Honda's service dept. I thought for a moment that he owned the property, but as it turned out, he was looking at it to buy it. That meant that it was up for grabs, I assumed, so I began to look around, as if interested myself. I stumbled across a barn, which was concealing a huge movie theater inside of an auditorium sized warehouse frame. The inside was in disrepair, but it was completely suited for a large sit down venue. 

I immediately began making plans for tearing out the tattered movie screen and setting up a stage for live performances. My aunt carol would buy this place in an instant, I thought to myself. And she would, too, just to be able to say, "Oh, looky-looky, I've got this big venue, we can have our meetings here, and it will attract all kinds of artisty types. I'll be the belle of the ball, I will." 

That was as far as it went, just that projection in my head. Tom still had designs on the place. I tried to convince him that, despite his Honda service record, he was old and not in demand in the workforce. Not very nice, I know, but I wasn't sugar coating it. I really wanted that place and couldn't have him fucking it up. That's about it. I awoke and it is election day. I've been looking forward to the drama that I'm about to see unfold, since other than that little bit of vicarious excitement, life in corona exile is pretty dull.