What's the last weirdest dream you had?

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Taking a nap this afternoon, I had a bit of an odd dream.

My nephew and I were driving down the road and we saw a building just off the road about a mile or two out of town that we had never seen before so we stopped to check it out.

It wasn't all that big a building and had some parking around it but not a whole lot. It was obviously not a home, not a church, not a store, not a school, not a warehouse, ... . There were a few vehicles parked around it. There were no signs or other decorations to indicate the purpose.

We went in the door and saw no flags, pictures, paintings, or book shelves, anywhere. There was no receptionist desk or anything like that.

Ahead of us we saw some room with men and women sitting around talking. Everyone was well dressed and nearly all were about 60 or older. More importantly, we didn't know anyone there and they didn't know us. These were all strangers. In my town, that would be highly unusual.

There was no table, but some were holding notepads and clipboards, but none appeared to have any writing.

One possibility might have been that it was a ranch office, but if it had been, we would have definitely known some people in the room.

Our presence did not seem to make anyone uncomfortable but it was obvious that we had surprised them and they wondered why we had walked in.

I saw a door on the other side of the room so I walked down the hall to the other side and stood in it while my nephew stood in the first door. I started to talking to one older woman who seemed to have an air of authority and we had a pleasant, casual conversation while we each tried to figure out who the other one was.

I also opened one door in the hallway that opened into an office with three people in it. One was sitting behind a desk, one sat on a chair and the other on a sofa. Again, no pictures, flags, paintings, or books. They were surprised but didn't say anything so I apologized for the intrusion and closed the door.

There was also a small coffee counter to make coffee, but nothing resembling a kitchen.

After a little while we left with no more idea of what was going on than when we went into the building.

I dreamt I was being harassed by a couple of young russian punks with knives and clubs, and the father of the bigger and nastier of the pair saw what was happening and stepped between me and his son, angrily expressed to the sun how ashamed he was of his son's unbecomingly thuggish behavior and how he brought shame upon his family and Russians in general, and slapped him so hard that his son spun around and spun into the ground.