A man and I were on a road trip together. We stopped inside a ramshackle shack to find a bathroom, and it turns out the guy who lived there was selling all his possessions for "half off." He had been trying to sell his possessions for a while but now finally was destitute and had to get rid of everything. I saw a sagging old iron bed, a lamp with no lampshade, dusty beer glasses, things like that. Suddenly I realized Willie (the dog) was with us. There was a dog kennel in the corner that I tried to put Willie in, but he got away from me and disappeared for a moment.
I heard Willie snuffling around behind the door of a back room. There was also the pleasant gentle clicking sound of someone flipping through a stack of 78s. Excited that there might be records in the room, I opened the door and found the man I was with sitting on the floor looking through a pile of vintage poker chips. "I don't think he should be in the crate," he said, "he's been in the car so long. I'll just sit with him in here."
Looking at the poker chips myself, I saw that they were Beatles memorabilia: they were shaped like speech balloons and each had a quote on it from a Beatles song. I gathered them all up from the dusty floor with the intent of buying them. I was satisfied. Later I was kissing the man somewhere outside the shack and it was good.