A wearable string instrument, rednecks confront an alien boat

I'm in a garden outside a house at the bottom of a hill. In my mouth, I have a thick thread that has come unraveled from my collar or maybe is an intentional feature of the shirt. It's about two feet long and by holding one end in my mouth and the other with my left hand I can play a song on it by plucking it while varying the tension.

There's a river within sight of where I'm standing. A bunch of rednecks in pickups and old cars drive past quickly and stop at the river's edge. An alien boat comes up the river and there is a standoff between the aliens and the rednecks. One of the rednecks opens fire and the aliens shoot back with energy beams, obliterating the redneck who fired, some of their vehicles and what appeared to be a houseboat. The remaining rednecks flee.

I am still standing in the garden with my string instrument but now it's a recording session with other musicians. I'm the leader and now the vibration of the string can somehow be heard amplified by others. I like the song I'm playing but am apologetic and embarrassed that I only have two songs.

I am in a record store with a girlfriend figure shopping for music for a road trip. I suggest we get a newly released book on CD that seems to be an adaptation of a movie. The store is suddenly crowded and an employee greets someone across the room with the name of a female waking life childhood friend. I turn and first think it is my friend, but then see that it is an effeminate looking young man. I feel embarrassed for the man being mistaken for a woman. He is a security guard for the record store.