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I'm a member of some kind of disaster recovery team. We've been called out to some bumblefuck coastal town up north to aid the local residents with emergency repairs to their critical infrastructure to get them back on their feet. I've been assigned to find the runway of their "airport" and get it operational again. I have to find it because they were hit by a hurriblizzard, a mix between a hurricane and a blizzard. The runway was very near the beach, and the whole place is covered in feet of snow and miniature icebergs. It's been warming up, and the snow has begun to melt, but it will still take a week for it to melt off, and they need the airstrip running to get supplies faster. I'm on the front porch of a house that acts as the "control tower" and I have to keep dodging a forklift driven by a young local yokal who has obviously never driven a fork before and he's deadly dangerous with it. He falls through some ice and I look under and see the tarmac is there, but it's broken up a bit and uneven. I ask him if he has any pictures of the runway before the storm, so I can get an idea of where exactly we need to dig. He brings me inside the house and hands me his phone and says to navigate his picture folder to find the images. This asshole has tens of thousands of pictures, and none of them are of the airstrip. After a few minutes of swiping and seeing nothing but dogs, cars, and vacation pics, I ask him if he can pull up google earth and I can see the sat image and work from there. He says there's no data because of the storm. I say "well shit".

He suggests the router may be the source of the problem with the data, and we head to another room to find it. This room is not only currently flooded with deep water, but the surface is thin ice. I don't know why, but I follow this buffoon out over the ice and it begins to break up and I'm up to my knees in freezing cold water. He's laughing about this and I'm getting angry with his antics. I say "look man, I'm from the south. Do you see these shoes? They're Sketchers. They're not snowboots and they're not waterproof and my feet are going to get frostbite and if I lose my toes I'm going to cut yours off." He then takes me seriously and invites me to the living room to sit by the fire while he dries my crispy-crinkly frozen clothing items. I meet his girlfriend and she offers her arm to escort me in that direction. She's hot. Smokin' hot. So hot I forget my feet are freezing off.

I wake up. Damn, I was looking forward to meating his girlfriend.