I'm traveling, in a city that is supposedly New York, but its design is familiar from previous dreams. The main thoroughfare goes from west to east; central and south of the main street goes sharply downhill, and there are interesting stores and active bars. At the far east is a downtown area with tall buildings. I am now at the west end of the main drag, slightly north.

Steve and I are waiting there for some people, sitting outside on a couch. Steve is vigorously smoking pot from a pipe (not usual), and I am abstaining (usual).

I realize that I've forgotten to bring a map of the city, and that makes 1... 2... 3... 4 things that I forgot to bring this trip, although I don't remember what the others were. We obtain a map from somewhere, but it is indecipherable. I can't even tell if it's the correct city. Most of the markings seem to be small rivers, and sometimes the streets crossing them, and some of the names are vaguely like Oregon names, but in all it doesn't make sense.

I decide I might as well have one tiny hit from the pipe, and as soon as I take it in my hand, the person we are waiting for arrives. It is either my boss Tom or my dad, or some combination thereof, and he begins laughing heartily and almost hysterically. There is someone else with him, who is also traveling with us, who is shortly behind but I don't recall the second person arriving.