The Nor'easter

I was in a car, in the passenger seat; an acquaintance from high school (James?) was driving. It was just after dawn in morning, though there was no sun. Instead, outside there was cold rain beating against the car as we drove down the docks. We were going fishing. I humorously note that I forgot to bring a raincoat. I appear to respect this acquaintance of mine quite a bit, as a part of me really wants to impress him.

We get to the end of the dock, massive cargo ships towering above us on all sides, and park. We duck into a building that appears to be as tall as the surrounding ships.

We are then high up in this building, looking out over the storm-tossed bay through a large, windowless opening in the concrete. My fishing partner says we need to get a hold of Steve for the boat. I comment that, "Hey, I know Steve! I have his number in my cell." (While thinking to myself that I don't know him as well as I'm indicating, as I only met him last term in a physics class) I check my cell and have a humble realization: "This is my new cell and I haven't transferred Steve's number over to it yet. So I don't have his number with me."

Next, I'm far down inside this building. I'm in a nasty public bathroom with my family. Must be unisex, 'cos my wife is standing there holding my daughter and my son is peeing in the urinal. I've already done my business, and am closer to the subway-station-wide stairway that leads back up to ground level and the rain. There are puddles of pee all over the floor, as well as the occasional fecal dropping. I notice an odd, dirty, disturbed-looking man slowly making his way up the stairs, looking back with an impish grin on his face. When he's about half-way up the stairs, he turns so that he is facing back down into the bathroom, pulls the top of his pants down - just enough to pull out his privates - and begins masturbating. At this point he's noticed that I've seen him, but doesn't seen to care in the least. He just happily continues.

I'm appalled and angry, this being a family restroom 'n' all. I march up the stairs, and the man seems genuinely surprised when I haul off and deck him. I punch him a couple more times, he swings at me, and I use the old Aikido move to direct his swing downwards, so that he essentially throws himself down the stairs. I go down the stairs to throw a couple more, until I'm satisfied that he's not coming up to retaliate. In the interim, two other nasty-looking guys (what are they - sailors from the cargo ships?) have exited their bathroom stalls and are looking on. One is odd in that he's maybe only four to five feet tall, but his body is massively over-developed from the waist up. Though both seem in their eyes to be as unbalanced as the first guy, they are only mildly interested in what is going on and show no interest in getting involved. Meanwhile, I can tell by my wife's eyes that she's freaking out a bit, so we wash my son's hands, guide him through the feces minefield that is the floor of this place, and back up the stairs.

Then we're somewhere in the building again high above the bay, this time in an apartment of some sort. It's small and cramped - kinda like the inside of a houseboat - and the cold rain is still whipping around outside, violently slapping the windows that cover half this room. My wife, my sister and I are the only ones there, and we're packing as we will be leaving later. Since my wife couldn't see what happened on the stairs earlier - and my sister wasn't there at all - I describe (and curtly illustrate over my pants) what the perv had been doing. We're all a bit anxious now, as we know that this place we're renting is not secure and anyone - including these freaks - could come in and take our stuff while go out one last time. My sister has an idea of hiding a key inside under one of the bunks, which although she's very assured about this course of action, makes no sense at all.

After that, I'm in the back of the cramped apartment, and my high school acquaintance and I are trying to get our tackle together for the fishing we're still going to do. Either my sister and/or my wife are hanging out back there too. Unfortunately, we seem to be a bit short on tackle. Worse, we seem to have almost no line. This does not seem to concern my fishing mate, so I try to take it in stride too. I look in my box and realize I also have no lures. Still, we're going to give it a shot...