Mike and I dreamt the similar dreams the other night. Neel suffered from a similar delusion that same evening. Life is crazy.
Enough about Neel's delusion and Mike's dream.
Not last night, but the night before, I had the strangest dream.
I drove with Neel to the City to meet a famous Big Shot. I didn't know who it was we were meeting, but I knew it was somebody Important and Famous.
Fortunately, in my dreams as in my waking life I have good parking karma, and the dream wasn't wasted trying to find a parking spot. I park the car and we walk into an inviting and elegant restaurant. The hostess was warm and I knew I wouldn't have to suffer bad service. In dreams, bad service is intolerable. Dream waiters don't mind spilling food on your freshly dry-cleaned slacks, and their maniacal laughs are often forced and pathetic. Yay for real life bad waiters!
While the hostess was greeting us I spotted the Big Shot. He was engaged in friendly banter with the bartender and other patrons at the bar. He had such an ease and friendliness about him, and the people seemed to really enjoy this man's company. I knew he had to be the Big Shot. As he turned and faced our direction, I realized that I knew who this Big Shot was. He was Mike!
"This can't be right!" I yelled. "What kind of crazy dream is this?"
LIke any true Big Shot, he laughed off my insult and gave me a friendly hug. He also stepped on my toes, but I figured I deserved it for my outburst. Sometimes hot glamorous designers act inappropriately. I sometimes do, too.
I don't know if it is true in real life, but Mike was more handsome than his avatar, looked about 10 pounds lighter, and his mug was blue.
Just when I thought I could handle no more surprises, Neel whistle-beeped at Mike. I guess he didn't learn his lesson from the chocolate café just a few days earlier. (I hear they worked this whistle-beep glitch out of the newer Neel droid models.)
The rest of the dream is a blur. There was some crazy talk of "Q" words sans "U," and how apparent it was that I am NOT a Scrabble person. (I own the game, doesn't that count for something?) Witty and clever and friendly talk, all around good cheer and hilarity.
Oh, I nearly forgot the best part of the dream. I almost DIED. Yes, I wrote DIED in all-caps, lest you didn't get the importance of threatening DEATH in DREAMS.
Mike's razor sharp wit and comic timing nearly killed me. I inhaled a bit of medium rare salmon. It was delicious salmon, and I would have felt honored to die with it logged...um, lodged in my throat. Neel suggested, while I was dying, that I call my blog "Postmortem Thoughts." He's a clever fellow, that Neel. 10 minutes later and into the dream, while I was still choking and near death, I found peace and joy... I realized that the evening proved to be blog-worthy after-all. I woke up and wondered, what could be more blog-worthy than an evening dying in the company of a Big Shot and Flirty Droid.
3 comments:
In my dream my comic timing was all off. There was a similar part about stepping on your toes though. They were nice and squishy.
It's the beer soaking that makes my toes nice and squishy.
You know, death in dreams is usually about change. Not death. ;-)
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