Not quite Danny, his Asian mother and a friend, feed me and fudge the socket count

I was at the home of not quite Danny Sudduth and his Asian mom for a period a a few days, or a few meals worth of hospitality. Danny would set the table with four places and I'd go ahead and sit down to a plate of pancakes, or of potato chips in a bowl, whatever was clever. He was a decent enough host. 

I was there long enough for my socket collection to somehow get into circulation at the house and in the process of sorting out whose socket was whose, there may have been a few miscalculations as to the count. Some of my sockets wound up in his trays and vice versa. I felt a small amount of distrust, along with gratitude for their hospitality about the meals. 

There was another male friend there whose identity eludes me, but he seemed jovial and trustworthy enough. He had a small dog, a chihuahua perhaps, that I became fond of. The dog loved to jump in the car, even if the car was only going to be moved a few feet. I got down on the ground and found myself getting puppy dog licked by the little tyke as he was making one of these little trips from the garage to the car. 

I remember showing the friend my unique method of recycling, which most would find a little on the liberal side, including anything and everything made of plastic, just on the off chance that it could be categorized and recycled by the collectors. I did feel I was stretching it a bit, but I'd gotten away with it, so I was encouraging them to do the same. 

The recycling collection lady showed up while we were organizing sockets. She drove a criminally cheap car that looked like her personal vehicle to do the collections. It was a cross between a K-car and a Chevy Lumina, but it was being billed as a budget Cadillac. I made some joke about the name of it and the collection lady and Danny's friend laughed about it, and she began to do an oil change on it right then and there. 

I was poking around in some other car that Danny had come across. It had belonged to someone famous. Also famously stupid. They had tried to convert a four door Honda Civic type vehicle into a two door, but not by doing anything with the doors. They simply put a metal cover over the rear seat, which made the whole rear area look like one giant rear shelf. 

This was presumably done to make room to smuggle drugs or something nefarious like that. It was a cheap job that did nothing for the vehicle, other than cover over some really crappy rear seats with a custom molded cover made of felted tin. A lot of work for very little purpose. 

We marveled at that for a while, and I decided that I needed to re-evaluate my own vehicle. I was comparing it to a camper in a parking lot we had landed in after a rather deliriously rambling ride in Danny's motorhome. His friend and I had been riding in it, with Danny at the helm. He was doing donuts and in general keeping us off balance as he held us hostage during the trip around the parking lot. 

When we finally got out was when I decided I would for sure be looking into a vehicle better suited to my own transportation needs. I'd want something with more cargo capacity, something like a larger version of the Fit. Or perhaps a vehicle I could stand up in and move around. 

As I examined an old Dodge campervan, Danny's friend mentioned that it would be a good fit "because I could not only stand up, but I could stand up AND take a shit at the same time" pointing out a bucket and noting the extra high fiberglass ceiling. I wasn't quite sold, but I'd think about it.

That's all folks, the next thing that occurred was the scratchy-scratch sound of guinea hens on the roof. I was ok with exiting this dream, since it wasn't going anywhere. I mean, Danny and his mom were good enough hosts, but face it, they were no Kaley Cuocos.