I had just closed my new barbershop in Beverly Hills after my first day in business.
I decided to treat myself to dinner to celebrate the new shop and as I was walking down the street, I noticed two barbers I had previously worked with in the Netherlands had also opened barbershops on the same street, so I decided to pass by their shops to see if they wanted to join me for dinner.
At the last minute, I cut my visits short having changed my mind about the dinner invitations, deciding I would rather relish in the moment on my own as I was tired and really not up to conversation or company.
As I was leaving the area, I noticed one of the barbers riding a horse on a hill behind his shop and thought how very out of place that seemed considering that back in the Netherlands he drove expensive luxury cars.
Just then, my uncle appeared with a horse and told me that there was a family dinner going on at his house and if I rode the horse I'd make it just in time.
So, I jumped on and rode the entire length of the San Fernando Valley on horseback, though there were a few instances where I thought I was going to be thrown off the horse as I was unsure the animal was happy about transporting a stranger such a far distance and at such great speeds.
As the journey continued, I felt more and more comfortable riding the horse and petted and praised it often.
Soon after, I arrived at my aunt and uncles house and was given a packet of information pertinent to the last will and testament of my great-grandparents. I placed the packet in a box and went into the dining room which was full of relatives I had never seen before.
I sat down at an open chair at a long table next to a young man who was busy eating and he told me to help myself.
I opened the white paper bag that was in front of me to find an odd assortment of petits fours that appeared to be filled with meat, so I offered them to the young man who gladly took them.
Then I woke up.