We stop to pick up my car, which has been parked on the street. I'm with climbing people - the driver is Byron, and also is Laurie from climb school. I go to my car, and it's all trashed - the windshield is missing and the dash is torn apart. Laurie follows along and gets in the passenger side. I don't seem to be surprised by how messed up the car is; it seems it didn't just happen, it was already like that, at least partly. I make some joke about how it's a good car, it just doesn't look like it, just a couple weeks ago the interior was perfect.

We're going with the climbers to a movie, I think, or somewhere else where we will be away for a few hours, and it occurs to me that it might be a bad place to leave my car, so I start to ask Byron if we can stop and park it in a more well-lit place, but then I realize it's too complicated to find such a place just now, so never mind, we'll just park it wherever, it'll be fine.