cream frosting and the cream puff meet dairy queen

I drive to dairy queen in the 1967 Plymouth Fury (aka the cream puff) and I'm wearing a yellow satin cowl-necked bridesmaid dress. I'm sitting too close to the steering wheel, and it makes me uncomfortable. Once I'm inside, Stephanie P takes my order, and its something in a chocolate waffle. Courtney calls me and asks me to pick up something with blue and purple ice cream. I ask her what's in it, and she doesn't know. I get frustrated with her and hang up. I tell Stephanie to put rainbow sprinkles in it. As I'm leaving I see Sam D from swing dance club. I ask him how long he's worked there. He says always, but I know he hasn't. He asks me to dance, but I can't follow the steps. Then a dance instructor and some officers from the swing club show up, and try to teach me the steps. It's 17 steps, pause, then 15 steps, pause, then 10 steps, pause, then 5. I still can't follow. The dance instructor, noticing my dress, calls the color "cream frosting" and then makes a nasty comment about fat people in un-customized bridesmaid dresses. Then she berates the vice president for not being able to follow the dance steps properly. I realize my ice cream is melting, so I run out to the car. But first I try to scoop the ice cream back in the waffle. I set the plastic bag in the passenger seat. But instead of driving, it feels like I'm pedaling this stupid huge-ass car. I call Courtney to ask directions to her house, and she's crying. I ask her what's wrong, and she tells me "That's a sensitive question". I shut up, and wait for directions. She tells me, and I hang up. I try to turn the plymouth around and its scary because it is a huge car. Then I'm driving down a narrow road with only double yellow lines and not one but TWO cars are facing me in my lane! I scream, and they switch lanes at the last second. Then a stoplight magically appears, with a yellow light, and I can barely stomp on the brake in time. I see Ben from theatre on a bike on my right, and another guy on my left. They were giving me hand signals to stop when I could clearly see the light, and I am annoyed. They compliment the car. The light turns green and I go, but this lady in an antique blue convertible cuts me off and yells something about going too slow at me. I scream at her that her car is a piece of shit and that I can drive faster than her any day.