I'm walking on a beach at night with a friend and two girls; one is dark-haired and sort of hippyish, with baggy clothes. The other is blonde and better-presented. I'm 'with' the hippy one; or, it seems I just met them both, and she's the most interested in me.

As we're walking, I see a strangely-placed rock in the dunes, and go dig there. I find an old dilapidated backpack that somebody buried. Inside the backpack are two glass bongs used for pot-smoking. I have no interest in them, but I offer them to my friends, and the hippy girl says she'll take them. We pull them out of the backpack, and find that both of them are broken, but she doesn't mind. She says she'll fix them. I'm thinking that somebody buried them there to discard them since they were broken, and they probably didn't want to put them in the trash where somebody might get suspicious.

Then in a front pocket of the backpack I find an iPod touch, and I turn it on and it works. I figure the person who discarded the backpack must not have known it was in there, so I dust the sand off it and put it in my pocket, but later I start to wonder if somebody was intending to come back for the stuff.

We keep walking down the beach until we come to a concert on the beach, some drum-oriented band. Nearby is a shallow river, just six or nine inches deep, that you can stand in while listening to the music, and there are chairs and tables, so we stop to have a drink and enjoy the show.

We meet Alona and her friend there, where they are sitting at a booth. I offer them the iPod touch, but neither of them wants it.

Now I'm closer to the blonde girl that we were walking with, and I start talking to her, and find that I like her better than the hippy girl. Somehow my fingers are between the buttons of her blouse, and she flexes her chest, pinning them there.