I Like to Ride My Bicycle (in My Dreams)

I’m riding my 10 speed puce Peugeot. I turn in at a churchyard to find my father. He is in the church lobby about to go into the sanctuary, attending a funeral and wearing the appropriate black suit, black tie. He has a brush cut and a moustache. He seems a little annoyed at my interruption and improper dress for the church. He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a billfold, taking out three twenties and urging me to be on my way so I don’t keep embarrassing him. I walk down the church steps and get on my bike. I realize I don’t have a lock but figure it’s a problem that can wait. I’m looking for Polo Park, and for the life of me I can’t find it. I keep getting misdirected, or can’t follow directions. I never arrive.