On vacation in Canada

I'm in a van, going on vacation to Canada with three high school friends. I am drinking iced coffee and tell the driver how it's the first coffee I've had since I quit caffeine and it tastes wonderful. My friend is driving with his feet and weaving a bit. I put my hand on the wheel which makes us go off the road through someone's yard. When we get back on the road, a hotdog stand-type cart rolls out onto the road. we swerve but it hits us anyway - the van flips as it rolls down a hill on the opposite side of the street and into a stucco house.

Nobody is injured. The owner of the cart retrieves it and I confront him, yelling. He acts like it was our fault. He packs up his cart in a ling string of trucks and takes off. I run after him and he weaves his vehicle so that the railroad-car like trailers almost pin me to cement blocks on the road. I try to get his license plate number, but it's bent and I can only see the top half of the letters. I tell my friends, "I knew there was something fishy about that guy."

We resume our trip, but we're now on bicycles. At an intersection, a cop stops and is trying to give a ticket to someone who has set up a TV showing a commercial in the middle of the road - the cop is talking to the TV as if it was two-way, but it doesn't seem to be.

The resort is immediately across a river. I check everybody in, asking for a room with four singles or two doubles and the clerk inquires about the sexes. I tell him there's two other guys and a girl and joke that we all sleep together like ABBA. It's $520 for the four of us and we pay with four credit cards. While the clerk is telling a long story about ABBA my phone rings but I don't answer it in time. It was a friend who I accidentally called while trying to call 911 after the accident. I call her back but get her voice mail. Her outgoing message is severn minutes long and includes an argument with her mom and a song from her boyfriend's band. I leave a long message while we walk to out room, which ends up being a platform floating on a canal parallel to the river. The resort is jam-packed, hundreds of people on similar platforms. Still leaving the message, I describe, "And now there's a delivery truck that's going to crash." The delivery truck is flying like an airplane and does crash into the river. Some people immediately jump in to assist, but it's crashed closer to the American side. People are trying to get a child out of the vehicle.

A man across the river shoots a large blue cellophane arrow towards the crowd on our side of the river. Everyone panics and starts running inland. I think he's shot the arrow to get everyone to clear the way for emergency vehicles which will be coming up the canal, but he keeps shooting at us. I retrieve one of the odd arrows as a souvenir and as I do, the man starts rapidly shooting arrows at me, but I easily dodge all of them.

Once safely out of range, we're sitting at a long long picnic table. A South Asian man is explaining what it was like adapting to our culture, "Everything's different, they even change the unit of time."

I tell my friends I want to go swimming.