Monday, November 21, 2005

The trouble with dreams is they don't come true.
And when they do, they can't catch up to you.

There are some people who attach deep meaning to dreams. They feel dreams are a window to the subconscious. There is a belief that dreams are profound and provide great insight into our complex personalities.

I am not one of those people.


Well, I had a dream last night, and I actually remembered it, which is rare.

Riddle me the meaning of this deep, Freudian masterpiece:

I was cleaning a room. My friend from college, Jimmy, was standing outside the room, wearing this black trenchcoat that he always wore back then.

I was cleaning the floor. I asked Jimmy for a piece of gum.

He reached into his trenchcoat pocket and handed me a pack of gum. It was the kind where you slide the blister pack out of the little cardboard sleeve, and you punch the little Chiclet out of the blister pack.

The blister pack had nine pieces of gum.

For some reason, I popped out three, put them in my mouth and handed the pack back to Jimmy.

A short while later, the gum was gone. I must have swallowed it.

I said to Jimmy, "Dude, something happened. Can I have another piece of gum?"

Jimmy silently handed me the pack again.

Again, I popped out three pieces and put them in my mouth. I slid the blister pack back in its sleeve and handed the pack back to Jimmy.

A short while later the gum was gone. I know I swallowed it this time.

"Yo, Jimmy. Can I have some more gum?"

Jimmy pulls out the pack with a quizzical look on his face, slides out the blister pack, looks at it and sees I have eaten six of the nine pieces in less than a minute. He raises and eyebrow and says, "Fuck you, dude."

I shrug and go back to cleaning the floor. It's for the best. I am pretty sure I would have have swallowed the last three pieces.

And.... scene.