A day at the beach

I dreamed I had two black friends, and we decided to go to the beach in Santa Monica. From our starting point at 1124 Bay St., we headed down the hill, joking and throwing a basketball back and forth, until we got to 11th at the bottom. At that point, our paths diverged when one of them threw the ball, and I chased it down Grant, while the two of them continued on Bay St. 

Arriving at the beach, we dug a little sand bunker and started setting up for a day of partying and girl watching. We had an ATV parked at the top of a little sand dune that must have served as an "Open for business" sign, because within minutes, a pretty blonde came up to our sand fort and asked for a demonstration of our ATV.

"Go ahead, General," one of my friends told me. "Show her what it can do."

I jumped on the quad and proceeded to make tracks across the beach, doing tight little turns and throwing up a spray of sand and mud. I went back to the group, and saw the girl looking very impressed, despite the fact that I'd tracked a bunch of mud across the walkway where a bunch of street merchants had set up shop.

"Can you teach me to do that?" she asked coyly.

"Certainly," I said. "Let's set up an appointment."

"Also, my friends and I would like to see you dance," she said, naming some very hip sounding dance with which I was completely unfamiliar. "Do you think you can do that, as well?"

I conferred with my two friends, and they did some quick internet research. After watching a few Tik Tok and YouTube videos, they whispered to me, "Tell her yes, dude. It's easy. You can do it."

I nodded yes to the girl, and after agreeing to the appointment, she went away to tell her friends. I now had my work cut out for me, since I am decidedly unhip, and I don't fancy myself much of a dancer. All in a day's work, I supposed, so I got down to learning the steps. 

I woke up with Steely Dan playing "Hey Nineteen" in my head.