OK. The details are a bit fuzzy, so I might be embellishing a
little bit while trying to remember what I can. However, it's mostly based on a true story.
I don't recall exactly how the dream begins, but the first details that come to mind place me in some sort of gathering place. I guess it's an upscale bar or something. I'm talking to some dude about a couple of business ideas that I have. This dude is dystopia. I describe to him the first idea, but I can't really remember the specifics. The second one is some kind of telephony/Internet-based service. I guess it's kind of like a voice-activated Google search service. You call a number to request information. Through some voice-recognition technology it runs a search and sends the requested information via email to your smartphone. Whatever. Dumb idea. It's a dream, after all.
So dystopia likes this particular idea and encourages me to write up some use cases for this service to start a business plan. He leaves, and I go over to the lounge area of this place and start dictating use case scenarios to my assistant, who's one of the ladies from my secretarial pool. Now this is the part of the dream that's of the ****ual nature...
I won't describe what happens in detail, but I'll say it involves some attempted groping and batting away of my hands. Can't get lucky even in my own dream.
Before too long, my assistant says, "Oh, he's back." I look over the back of the couch, and dystopia is now in his PJs and robe, sitting at what appears to be a kitchen table and eating his morning cereal. He looks like he just woke up. He just sits there staring off into space (thinking about getting a better job, I suppose). I know. Weird. It's a dream, after all.
Without any kind of segue, I'm now in the crowded part of the bar having drinks, and I run into spacey. We share a few laughs and he mentions that he's having some dudes over for poker night. I call stroh from my cell phone, and he picks up. I hear the loud screaming of kids in the background. I say, "Hey, dude. You want to play poker over at spacey's?" stroh says, "Nah, we're playing Wii." I say, "That's cool" and hang up. I tell spacey that stroh's playing Wii, and spacey explains to me, "stroh doesn't play poker." I think to myself, "*humid grotto*."
So now we're outside the bar, and we hop onto a couple of bicycles and start heading to spacey's place. We pass by some ladies walking down the sidewalk having a discussion about recently attending a Van Halen reunion concert and commenting about how bad they sounded. As I peddle by them, I remark to them that they sounded pretty bad in the 80s too. Meanwhile, we're cycling along, and I start to sense the "awkward silent moment" coming up. After all, I don't know spacey all that well. I try to make some small talk by commenting that Eddie Van Halen deserved to have his teeth fall out because of his hard living. In a loud, booming voice from nowhere like Obi-Wan Kenobi, UB starts chastising me. "Why do you hate Eddie? That was a very mean-spirited thing to say." So I rephrase what I said to spacey by saying, "With all the smoking, alcohol, and drugs, it's no wonder Eddie is in such poor health."
We finally arrive at spacey's bachelor pad. I walk in, and I notice that everything is white--the walls, furniture, carpet, etc. I say to spacey, "Dude, everything looks so white in here." He says to me, "Look closer. Don't you see the mauve accents?". I say, "Yeah. Whatever," and sit down at the poker table. I open up my wallet to pull out some cash, and I see a couple 20s amongst a wad of singles and fives. So I'm thinking, "Oh, crap. I don't have enough money." Meanwhile, Teed shows up carrying a 12-pack of beer under one of his arms and sits down at the table. I say to the rest of the guys, "This could be a short night for me." I reach out to hand spacey a couple of 20s and say, "I'll start with $40 in chips." He says to me, "We don't play with chips here. We just use cash," as he starts to lay down some 100s onto the table. So I start thinking, "Oh *feces*! These guys are hardcore!" I start digging through my wallet again, and I find an old $50 bill and a $70 bill (hey, it's a dream, after all). I breathe a sigh of relieve. I'm thinking that I might be able to survive a little while if I can win the first couple of hands.
After everybody is seated (the rest of the guys are just faceless, nameless dudes that are common in my dreams), spacey calls out the first game, "Between The Sheets." (For those of who don't play cards, it's a stupid game that takes no skill and is marginally more complex than the Card Sharks game show.) I laugh and say, "What kind of crap is that? That's not even real poker. I'm outta here!"
The End.
