This at first didn't seem like the most appropriate place to write about a dream I just had last night, until it occurred to me that it kind of is. You see, I have a tendency to remember good sized chunks of my dreams and I have been able to for as long as I can remember. So, if you look at it that way, it is part of what makes me... me? Okay, on with this wacky nonsense...
For some reason it starts out in this epic, sprawling mall that always seems to make appearances in my dreams. Now I'm no Dream Scientist, but it's become increasingly obvious that this 'Mall' is what houses all of the little side tracks and stores to other dreams. Understand? It's like a way station to other dreams and it binds and connects every one of my dreams together, in a way. So there's the mall, and I'm wandering the middle of it through what appears to be some kind of show where sellers are peddling everything from cool action figures to comic books to art work. You see, this is my kind of joint. I love big, open 'Shows' like this and I'm particularly fond of Cinema Wasteland in Ohio where just such a thing goes on, only with a horror theme. Anyway, I was walking around and I stumble across a book that I really want. It appears to be some kind of graphic novel and the artist is right there at the table, so I get it signed.
I turn around and head for one of the stores where, oddly, I spot my mom. She tells me to go on in, and as I do, it instantly turns into a vast college campus and I'm climbing an exterior set of stairs into my dorm. My two roommates are people I've never seen before, but seem to be made of several people I used to know, like high school friends and such. So there we were, sitting around our dorm when the two of them begin smoking weed. I tell them I can't because I have to get a drug test for a job as a camp counselor at a Summer Camp where my kids are going. But the smoke gets heavy and I have to leave. At this point I just know that I breathed in a bunch of smoke and I need to think fast because the test is later that day. So, miraculously, one of my roomies pokes his head out and hands me a container of pee from a student that no longer goes to that school. He says they use it all the time to past tests. So I grab it and head out.
The next scene picks up apparently right after the test because there are a bunch of us college-age kids who have applied for counseling jobs sitting around a half circle of picnic tables watching an older lady talk about the job at hand. I'm listening, but also absently flipping through that book I bought at the Mall part of my dream. Suddenly, I'm surrounded my three cops who ask me to come with them and proceed to harass me about the fact that I am not who the pee test says I am and I'm no way a med student and not working at a hospital, and so forth. Everyone is staring as they escort me to their car and drive me 'downtown'. I was pleading with them that I didn't actually DO anything, but I had to use the fake pee because I was worried I'd not be able to counsel my own kids. They didn't listen, and I was brought to 'Jail'.
Well, 'Jail' definitely wasn't a Jail in the traditional sense of the word. In fact, it was more like a run-down doctor's office waiting room. Yeah, there were 'inmates' who were grungy and standard 'TV issue jail folk', but it didn't even sort of look like a jail. I the office of this jail was a lady who was handling all the cases. She was a no-nonsense woman who frequently called out numbers and told the riff-raff to 'Shut up!'. I was a little worried because I knew that if my wife found out I'd be in serious trouble. So, the woman came out and asked for my paper work and told me to explain to her what happened. I told her the story and she seemed sympathetic, but told me to wait anyway until a judgement could be passed. So I wandered back to the waiting room, and suddenly all of the ruffians from within were super friendly and we all sat around and read my book. Seriously. That's how it ended as I woke up. Wow. Bizarre.
For some reason it starts out in this epic, sprawling mall that always seems to make appearances in my dreams. Now I'm no Dream Scientist, but it's become increasingly obvious that this 'Mall' is what houses all of the little side tracks and stores to other dreams. Understand? It's like a way station to other dreams and it binds and connects every one of my dreams together, in a way. So there's the mall, and I'm wandering the middle of it through what appears to be some kind of show where sellers are peddling everything from cool action figures to comic books to art work. You see, this is my kind of joint. I love big, open 'Shows' like this and I'm particularly fond of Cinema Wasteland in Ohio where just such a thing goes on, only with a horror theme. Anyway, I was walking around and I stumble across a book that I really want. It appears to be some kind of graphic novel and the artist is right there at the table, so I get it signed.
I turn around and head for one of the stores where, oddly, I spot my mom. She tells me to go on in, and as I do, it instantly turns into a vast college campus and I'm climbing an exterior set of stairs into my dorm. My two roommates are people I've never seen before, but seem to be made of several people I used to know, like high school friends and such. So there we were, sitting around our dorm when the two of them begin smoking weed. I tell them I can't because I have to get a drug test for a job as a camp counselor at a Summer Camp where my kids are going. But the smoke gets heavy and I have to leave. At this point I just know that I breathed in a bunch of smoke and I need to think fast because the test is later that day. So, miraculously, one of my roomies pokes his head out and hands me a container of pee from a student that no longer goes to that school. He says they use it all the time to past tests. So I grab it and head out.
The next scene picks up apparently right after the test because there are a bunch of us college-age kids who have applied for counseling jobs sitting around a half circle of picnic tables watching an older lady talk about the job at hand. I'm listening, but also absently flipping through that book I bought at the Mall part of my dream. Suddenly, I'm surrounded my three cops who ask me to come with them and proceed to harass me about the fact that I am not who the pee test says I am and I'm no way a med student and not working at a hospital, and so forth. Everyone is staring as they escort me to their car and drive me 'downtown'. I was pleading with them that I didn't actually DO anything, but I had to use the fake pee because I was worried I'd not be able to counsel my own kids. They didn't listen, and I was brought to 'Jail'.
Well, 'Jail' definitely wasn't a Jail in the traditional sense of the word. In fact, it was more like a run-down doctor's office waiting room. Yeah, there were 'inmates' who were grungy and standard 'TV issue jail folk', but it didn't even sort of look like a jail. I the office of this jail was a lady who was handling all the cases. She was a no-nonsense woman who frequently called out numbers and told the riff-raff to 'Shut up!'. I was a little worried because I knew that if my wife found out I'd be in serious trouble. So, the woman came out and asked for my paper work and told me to explain to her what happened. I told her the story and she seemed sympathetic, but told me to wait anyway until a judgement could be passed. So I wandered back to the waiting room, and suddenly all of the ruffians from within were super friendly and we all sat around and read my book. Seriously. That's how it ended as I woke up. Wow. Bizarre.
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