So, the wife made a red curry dish last night that, while delicious at the time, has left my cinnamon ring a vermilion shade of burning. Maybe that was the cause of such vivid dreams last night. What do I remember?
I remember it being a get together with my two best friends. We were going out for drinks and then to a French movie that we had all seen before. Something totally frilly and un-macho, but really, really good. Probably the French version of Say Anything or somesuch. Regardless, we started the evening at the first incarnation of a bar that we used to frequent.
When you dream of familiar places and spaces, do these turn into a whole new landscape while still retaining their familiarity? They do with me. The weird thing is is that they are always consistent. I have a warped mirror world in my dreams, at once familiar, but so totally alien as to make me wonder about past lives and my subconscious affinity for hair metal.
Anyhow, the bar was uneventful. It was the beginning of a going away party for me (ah subconscious, are you finally accepting the move?), but I had to pay for everyone. I went across the street to an ATM to pay the bar tab, and was assaulted by an old woman on a pub crawl. She kept berating me with questions about where to go next. I finally sent her to a martini bar. I knew I was running late, so I skipped out on paying the tab and went to the theater.
My friends were already inside, so I got a ticket, was assaulted by a trio straight from the J Crew catalog with their asshole knobs turned all the way to eleven. After spending forty dollars on Milk Duds, I found my seat, meeting vague people from my past as I walked down the aisles of the theater.
Suddenly, a Springer worthy fight broke out during the trailer for a Stomp the Yard esque movie. A man no taller than my knee slowly walked up to me as the theater erupted into a full scale riot all around me. He was slow, deliberate, and looked exactly like R.L. Burnside in miniature. I threw up my hands in defeat as he slowly pulled a butterfly knife the size of his leg out of his jacket pocket. My fight or flight instinct kicked into fight and I pulled a chair off the floor and beat him relentlessly. Then the movie came on.
The riot ended instantly, Burnside disappeared and I sat in the dark, bored and wondering if I should buy more Milk Dudes. I woke soon after.
Weird, huh? Well, enough time wasted. I have to read another 100 pages before Monday. Best get started.
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