Meister Jäger

I don't usually do this, but it was really vivid and kind of funny. I had a really cool dream on Friday night, and I think it had something to do with the fact that I had seven shots of Jägermeister on an empty stomach before going to bed. Or maybe it's got something to do with DMT. I got to pretend to be a potential client and my boss was going to have to get me to sign the contract. I remember quite clearly that I was a tough sell. The best part was that I got to critique her sales pitch. I think that was in the dream because of what happened in the boardroom earlier that day. Not such a crazy dream up to that point, but then it morphed...

Into a street festival, among other things. The Ukrainian Church a few blocks down the street had been overrun and was now a very organized crack dealing operation. But the neighbourhood was actually improved. Just up the street where I saw a corpse shortly after it got hit by a car, a crosswalk was now installed and there was now a pedestrian-only mall with an arcade kinda like they have in Japan. There was a nice glass-fronted drug store on the corner where the hardware store used to be and before that it was a hair salon, except it's never been any of those things in real life - it's always been a pawn shop. And the community police station across the street from the pawn shop was something else in the dream too.

This is how weird my dreams get. Maybe not the fact that they are so intricate, but the fact that I can remember all this stuff even when I'm awake. Back to the street festival. Two hippies from Nascimiento Brazil came up to me and told me that they wanted to write me a poem. Tudo bem was my response, and they asked me how I knew Portuguese. I told them how, and introduced them to Bobby and Sissy. These guys were so impressed that Bobby and I were twins they decided to make the poem very special for the both of us.

Cut to Grandma Tzipi's old condo in Rio de Janeiro. Grandma Tzipi figured Miami was a little too passé, so she went one step better and bought a home away from home in Rio. I still remember it, back when they made condos big enough to live in. There was the telltale sunflower shag carpet, and the tangerine formica countertops in the loo. It was here that the two hippies decided to reveal the poem. Everybody was there, including my new boss. More on her later. The hippies apparently found paper and pen to be rather limiting, so when they brought out a bus tray filled with water and floating blocks nobody was surprised. One hippie held the tray while the other read what was on the blocks and tipped them over as the lines continued to the other side of the dice blocks. I don't remember what the poem said, but I do remember that the hippies had written a symbol on one of the blocks which they said meant lol, and that the audience was supposed to laugh out loud.

My new boss, my dream boss that is, not my real one is quite a bit younger than me and for some reason I had to know her age. In real life, I'm not bothered about having a younger boss but I guess on a subconscious level maybe the opposite is true. Anyway, we played the age game. She guessed mine and got it right. I totally overguessed her age, and then underguessed it. I had lots of questions for my new boss, like why the person I replaced still gets to use a company cell phone, but I don't. Then something weird happened at Grandma Tzipi's condo. I'm not even sure what you call it, but I think it's something that happens at a bachelor party. It wasn't a lap dance, I think those are pretty straightforward, but my new boss was acting totally inappropriate especially since she knew I was married and my wedding band was in plain sight. How did a poetry reading turn into a bachelor party? Why are these things happening in your dead grandmother's beachfront condo? These questions might sound weird, but not necessarily disturbing. But how about that Sissy was there? Why is Sissy in your dreams Dax, watching you do bachelor party type stuff? Why is she constantly telling you about Ali? Because she's my conscience. It took me a few minutes to figure that stuff out after I woke up, but if you think about it, that's pretty cool. Knowing that there's always going to be somebody looking out for you, even though you hate it, it's pretty cool.

There was a bunch more messed up stuff in the dream too like the fact that I had a broken leg and had to drag myself around the neighbourhood on chucks. That might have something to do with the corpse I saw. There was other stuff like the time of day. At some point the street festival turned from day to night. And there was something about latchkey kids too but I can't that stuff into the narrative.