Monday, January 15, 2007

Dream analysis

I walked out of the darkness and into the blinding light, cars raced by, the "Taste of India's" smells were heavy under the glare. My senses had been totally shocked. As I took the 7 steps down to the curb the smell of wings and stale beer hit me like a freight train. How could it smell that bad back in there?! I guess after so long you get accustomed to it. I had left because I was hungry and cheese fries/wings weren't going to cut it. ( normal thought after pounding down 10 or 11 pitchers.) After my eyes slowly adjusted to the blinding light, I realized that it was just a normal partly cloudy day here in the Great White North, it was 5:30pm and I had been in McDuff's for 2 1/2hrs getting my drink on.
Djrecks subs sounded like utter filth even though it was 4 steps away....there's a certain point when you have a lunchmeat sandwich, the bite that will take you over the edge...the last bite, the bite that sends you down the road to Chunderville. without out even stepping inside, I already felt the heave. No dice.
Turning toward the south I wandered, stumbled, staggered....Pizza joints, BackSl*ts, Maxfields, the Hop ( you can no longer smoke inside so the hop wasn't the same as it used to in order to get a decent plate of greasy eggs with hair and ashes in them is to drive 4hrs away to Frank and Mary's Diner in Cortland) I can't drive...that would be pure and utter insanity. This walk took a very, very long time....
After taking stock of the money wadded up in my pocket I decided that there's only one thing that will work by way of food. A pizza bagel on pumperknickel bread, or a ruben on an everything bagel. no matter what it was, some Dread behind the counter baked out of his gord, would be sure to throw in a free something or other.
The bagel looked a bit off when it arrived, it was lopsided, no care at all went into putting this thing together, it was sweating some kind of liquid onto a loosely wrapped piece of pseudo-tin foil. There's a pickle wrapped in there somewhere, and waxed paper that is missing from its usually prominently display. What did I order? "This is definitely not it" I said to the imaginary friend on the chair next to me. Things in the bagelry started revolving,uh oh.......lunchmeat suprise, I shouldn't eat another bite...... I finished my "whatever" bagel...the only way to stop the spinning was to stand up. So up I got and stood in line to order another bagel. What the hell am I doing, no longer hungry, just need to stand....yeah just need to stand. "Give me an everything bagel with double funk, red peppers, and some of that shit<>no not that shit...>yeah that shit......." uuuugh. Completely haneious.
Stumbling out of the place I ran into a man I'd seen before, he was familiar, his voice was soothing, yet....who was he? After a few steps it dawned on me. Billy D was escorting me back to the bar....Billy Dee Williams himself sans the Colt 45. Thanks for dragging me back to this place. I entered the bar and it was brighter than when I left it, it was crowded, loud, and over whelming. People shouted my name and half heartedly tried to fill a plastic cup that appeared in my hand with their pitchers. They succeeded in filling my pockets and shoes with ruthless efficiecy, pouring beer everywhere but the cup it seemed.My guide back to this place was MIA at this point and I was severely listing to the right.......the lights dimmed, dipped again, then everything was dark. Quiet peace.

I woke up on a futon with the military channel explainging how Saddam Hussein gased 10's of thousands of Kurds in Northern Iraq......

WHAT THE "F" is that all about, and who invited Mr. Colt 45?

1 comment:

Willem said...

I wouldn't believe this story except for the fact that I've experienced several similar versions myself. You have a special gift for describing the Potsdam lifestyle. Seems all those years of "research" are now paying off.