Here is a dream my friend had. I'm typing it up here in her own words so I'm not inserting myself into the interpretation.

My friend's dream:

It is late at night. I am in an art museum with other people. I sense that they are actually artwork come to life. Then we are on the lawn in front of the art museum talking. We're trying to figure out what we're going to do next, where we're going to go.

The cops show up and they are suspicious of us loitering outside the museum at night or otherwise doing something wrong. They try to arrest us but we all scatter. I'm running down narrow alleyways and between houses trying to get away. I can barely keep ahead of them.

Then I see a big and tall guy who reminds me of the Native American guy in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest (in the movie he's very quiet and hardly speaks, and is pretty silent in my dream too). He isn't necessarily Native American but he is very big and broad, with long black hair, and his face seems really friendly. He's on a motorcycle in a big many-laned street that is empty because it's late at night. I say "Help, the cops are chasing me but I'm innocent!" He instantly believes me and lets me on the back of the motorcycle and we take off.

The cops are chasing us on motorcycles too, so to get away the big friendly guy does a crazy stunt move where he leaps over this steep man-made cliff, and zooms down the cliff with just the back wheel touching, just barely keeping us under control. Then we bounce a little at the bottom and he follows a tiny dirt foot path that only he and his friends know about. We lose the cops because we are hidden by trees.

The pathway goes up the other side of this area, which is a fenced in area, cement walls, like a man-made drainage basin. At the end of the path we meet up with his friend who is working at an all-night diner. His friend says or does something very friendly or gives us good advice.

We circle around and go down the same cliff again but this time we are on a black stallion instead of a motorcycle and the cops are still chasing us. We get back to same wide empty road where I first found the big friendly guy but now we are on something slow and small like a Segway. But now the police are on foot and I remark, "Isn't that weird they are on foot?" They keep swishing at us with knifes and we're zigzagging along the road, barely keeping ahead of them. I wish some cars would come along and force them to back off (because they would have to get out of the way of the cars). It is late at night so only one or two come by and the cops are right back to being close to us.

However, I'm not as afraid of the cops as you might think because they remind me of the guys from the 70's TV show "CHiPs" who are some fun guys.

There is one building that has its lights on late at night and I run off toward that building. I go down this long entrance hallway and I try to climb through this tiny window at the end of it in order to get to the back side of the building and keep running through alleyways. But it's hard to heave myself up and I can't quite fit through it. So I give up and enter a door that leads from this entrance hallway into the building.

I'm walking down a hallway and on one side there are a bunch of rooms with names on the door (the rooms are divided by thick plastic sheets rather than full walls so not as much privacy in each room). I realize I'm in a brothel or gay bathhouse. I feel really uncomfortable and it feels unclean. When I go around the corner I'm in the dressing room area and there are about 20 drag queens and transgender people that are getting into costumes and putting on makeup and fake eyelashes and they seem almost like a big family. They all like each other. I tell them I'm being chased by the police and they instantly believe and want to help hide me.

There are two or three of the female prostitutes who are in Muslim face coverings (hijab), a kind of hijab that covers their whole face except for their eyes. I find it amusing that they are following strict religious laws but they are prostitutes and are dressed provocatively in other ways (like they pull up their skirts to show garters). Some kind of voice (almost like a disembodied voice) says sarcastically, "What, Muslims can't be prostitutes?"

The drag queens cover me in a hijab so I blend in. The cops come in, and the drag queens break into a song and dance number and twirl around, creating this distraction and visual confusion so the cops can't find me. They even twirl the cops around in ballroom-dance style.

One of the drag queen or transgender guys says, "She's right there, sleeping!" (points at a woman lying on the ground, curled up). I'm watching through the hijab. They go to pick her up and she pops up and laughs at them (she's not the right person). The same guy whispers to the guy next to him, "I tricked them! She's actually sleeping two rooms away."

Now I seem to be an observer and not the one the cops are chasing. I wake up at this point.