Anyway, last night was another doozy. I was waiting in an airport for the escalator to take me down to street level so I could leave. Apparently, I'd just flown back from New York (haven't been there in years) and at this particular airport, you had to wait your turn to ride the escalator - kind of like a water slide ride. Anyway, I'm standing off to the side with this gal who who used to live across the street from me as a kid (we'll call her "Chadwick"). All of a sudden, this complete douche bag of a guy (he'd just gotten off from another plane that landed from New York) was asking the escalator attendant to put the escalator into some kind of super drive speed. The escalator attendant wasn't having it and explained to the Douche that it wasn't an option. Douche started yelling that that's how things are ALWAYS done in the airports that he flies into. Douche is actually getting quite loud and disruptive. The rest of the line, myself included, are watching this little scene without much interest until....Douche's friend walks up and threatens to beat the crap out of the escalator attendant. I mean this guy throws down his bags and everything - grabs the escalator attendant by the scruff and explains that while his friend might be a douche "that's no way to talk to him."
Turns out the Douche's friend is a guy I used to crush on really hard years ago (you know, write on a piece of scrap paper to see how my first name fits with his last name, that kind of girly stuff). Let's call the friend Washington Square. Well, anyway...I sort of fade into the crowd so Washington Square won't see me. I'm not really sure why. But to help alleviate the situation, I whisper to Chadwick that she should intervene and tell Washington Square to calm down a bit. She does so and apparently Washington Square was grateful because he gives Chadwick a wallet size picture of himself with the words "You've got nice tits" scrawled on the back. Interesting. Chadwick explains that Washington Square and Douche are going to be at his family's condo on Lake Okoboji at the Cutty's Resort. Okoboji is where we are apparently in the dream and it's where I live.
I know you're hoping this dream is over, but this is just the beginning. I go home - my home in the dream is the house my great-grandpa built for his wife in the mid 40's or 50's (gorgeous house - wish the family still owned it) - anyway, I go home and wander through the formal dining room with all its' dark wood and china displays until I reach the living room. I think I sit down to the baby grand piano behind my grandfather's chair. He's watching television - I can't see what he's watching, but he tells me how proud he is of my daughter Isla and how much he wishes he could have lived long enough to meet her. Of course in the dream he's as alive as I am, but his statement seems to make perfect sense. I explain that it's all right, I know he loves Isla as much as he ever loved me.
The scene from the airport is still in the back of my mind though, and I go downstairs and get on this really old 1990's style desk top computer for the purpose of emailing Washington Square. I decide instead to walk over to Cutty's Resort to say hi to Washington Square. In the dream of course, Lake Okoboji doesn't look anything like the real thing, but instead resembles something more akin to a large bay on an ocean. The town of Okoboji, instead of being small like it is in real life, is actually pretty crappy looking once I leave the shelter of Monarch Cove where our house is located (now the house has transformed from my great-grandparent's home to our cabin). In fact, as I start walking down the highway headed north, I'm walking along a street that looks like some of the bad parts of Chicago. I turn down a dark alley that's adjacent to some kind of manufacturing plant and run into three drunk dudes who are trying to buy more alcohol. At this point in the dream, I must have been invisible b/c the guys cannot see me, but I continue to walk along with them. They break into a house to rummage through the refrigerator. The homeowner returns home and turns out to be some kind of M13 gang leader covered in nasty looking tattoos. He proceeds to murder these three guys in the bathroom (I'll skip the graphic details). The bathroom looks like a nice multi-stalled room you'd find in a Neiman Marcus - plush carpets and everything.
Then I'm outside again and it's light out. I continue walking along the road toward Cutty's Bay. The whole time I'm thinking why in the hell does Washington Square's family have a condo at Cutty's? It's not the highest class place in the world and I'd always understood Washington Square to be more than comfortable. Furthermore, my family had owned property on Lake Okoboji since the 1930's and he'd never mentioned it. In any event, I get to Cutty's Bay and instead of going in to find Washington Square, I decide to go swimming in the bay which looks like something out of an MTV Spring Break scene. I pay $4 for all you can eat fruit which is the only cover charge to get into the Bay. I proceed to swim for hours in the ocean/Lake Okoboji. As I start to leave Cutty's, I see Washington Square and Douche by the pool. I don't let him see me and I proceed to walk home.
When I get home I go back downstairs to the crappy computer and start typing up an email to Washington Square. I start out by writing that I never knew he was so pugilistic and that I'd seen him in the airport. For some reason, he immediately emails me back to say he's coming over. My husband is fine with this oddly enough. However, before he gets there, I call Washington Square back and tell him he doesn't need to come over after all.
WHAT THE HECK? All those people out there that think dreams mean something....ummmm....I don't think so :)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment