I awoke this morning laughing a bit. I had a rather... entertaining dream. I will do my best to recapture the experience. This needs revision, without doubt, so I apologize for the sloppy nature of this post.
Here we go:
It was late evening. I left my parents house where my wife and several others were having a party. I was on a beer run; ironic, the recovering alcoholic making the run. I am not sure who I was making this beer run with, but I sensed he was coworker; no one I knew, however. We drive my car, of course, which was my last car that had died several years ago.
Upon arriving at the liquor store, we didn't grab beer, but several bottles of hard liquor; whiskey, tequila, vodka, and I believe a bottle of Thunderbird. No idea why we would grab Thunderbird.
We set the bottles on the counter, I felt nervous. Almost seven years sober, and here I was buying a shit ton of booze. The nervousness passed quickly as the cashier turned around and who was none other than Sidney Poitier! I looked to my coworker who was equally excited, and we were speechless. That is until Mr. Poitier asked for some identification.
As I was giddy standing opposite Mr. Poitier, I fumbled my wallet and ended up dropping my ID on the counter. He looked at the ID, never making eye contact, walked over to the phone and paged a manager. I told him it wasn't fake, just look at the ears and he would see it was in fact my ID. Mr. Poitier responded by holding the ID up to the light. Still, no eye contact.
Five minutes later the manager arrived, took the ID and called the local police department to verify the ID was real, almost as though she was verifying a credit card. Very strange. My coworker and I decided this was bogus and agreed that once I got my ID back we were going somewhere else.
The manager hung up the phone, walked back to the register and told me she guessed it was legit, so we were ok to buy the booze. And still, no eye contact from her or Mr. Poitier. I took the ID and as I put it back in my wallet I told her that their inability to make any eye contact whatsoever, plus the long delay, just lost our business and we were going elsewhere to get our booze.
We walked out and got into my Grand Am, my now deceased car. And, much like reality, the car wouldn't start. Perfect. Now, the season had been either early spring or early fall up to this point, but as soon as the car wouldn't start, it was the middle of winter; snow banks, covered street, icicles hung from the bumper.
I walked back up to the liquor store to call my dad to come and give us a jump. Uncharacteristically, he hesitated, so I hung up on him and we decided to walk to Kum 'n Go to get our booze. We walked in, stomping the snow from our shoes, brushing off our heads.
Kyle was working (I had previously worked with Kyle at property management). He and his coworkers were in Iowa State tee-shirts behind want felt more like an information table than a convenience store counter. We exchanged a few sarcastic remarks, as usual, and after hearing about Mr. Poitier, said he'd would be willing to give me a jump. So we bought our booze and made our way out in to the parking lot where my car now was - not really sure how it made the trip with us!
As payment, Kyle wanted a shot for him and his buddies, which for some reason was about eight guys. And of course, I had ten shot glasses in my car, so I set up a round on the roof of my car while they hooked up the jumper cables. Two of the guys were playing badminton it the snowy parking lot, and we had to wait for them to finish their volley before we could do the shot.
After taking the shot, it was time to fire up the cars. Kyle's car had been running, charging my battery for over five minutes at this point. I turned the key and my engine burst into flames! Everyone rushed around, laughing and giggling. All at once, all ten of us lifted up our fire extinguishers and worked feverishly to subdue the flames. Why we each had extinguishers in our hands is beyond me, but it seemed so natural in the dream!
With the fire extinguished, my coworker and I got in the car and drove off, heading back to my parents house with the long awaited booze as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Other than Sidney Poitier, that is.
A little crazy, but a lot of fun.
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