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We all have dreams & this is one of them
It was one of those places where they have all those “cute” little tables with white table cloths & on the tables were white cloth napkins folded to look like flower arrangements. We had to wait a super long time even though we could see that there were plenty of empty (not counting the faux-flowers) tables. In fact the whole place was almost empty. Then, when our names were finally called (why is that always so exciting?) we were led through the maze of (lovely) empty tables, through a door & seated us in an old railroad car, where we were left with three guitar-playing-singing- Cubans. I don’t know how I knew they were Cubans, I just knew. We couldn’t get anything to eat or, more importantly - all things considered - to drink, until they stopped singing. As usual, this was by the old Amusement Park next to the ocean (beach) where it’s always sunset. This is where most of my dreams (the ones I remember) take place, even though they (the dreams) have little to do with the Amusement Park itself, it’s more of a location where things seem to happen.

After we ate (if, in fact we ever did) I (now apparently by myself) decided to go to the music store down the street, just to look around, I wasn’t going to buy anything, but no sooner did I get there & they were getting ready to close, “oh shit” I thought “I’m late for work”. I needed to hurry because (for some reason) I had to take the bus to get to work which was all the way out by the oil fields. The oil fields were both funny & creepy at the same time – funny because those giant “nodding-donkey" pumpjacks (seriously) kind of reminded me of those toy “drinking birds” that used be in Doctor’s & Dentist’s waiting rooms when I was a kid, creepy because the refineries lit up the sky at night like concrete volcanoes ready to explode at any moment.

I got off the bus & I suddenly realized that it was windy, not a real cold wind but it just kind of blew through me as if I were a ghost or something, like I said “not cold” just chilly. When I got to work, I stopped in the mail room like I always do to pick up my mail (this was in the days before email) but when I walked through the door I was back out side but not anywhere near the Amusement Park (or, even the oil fields), but in that shitty-little-town-in-the-mountains-

That-I-went-to-that-one-winter (no wonder it was cold). Even though this little town (or, village) was in the middle of nowhere I knew my way around like I’d been there all my life. It was if I had an aerial view of the streets as I headed down the street, passed the jewelry store (I had once worked at) that sold balloons & party supplies, passed the bar (I had once played at) & I went straight to the Post Office, walked through the door & you guessed it, I was back in the mailroom at work. This time I quickly grabbed my mail before anything weird could happen & I headed straight to my office (cubicle).

Upon opening my mail I noticed an old memo (dated the previous December) from “the woman in Accounting” & I was taken aback because I had forgotten all about her. Actually, nobody remembers much about her or, even what she looks (looked) like.  I do seem to remember that she was a very hard worker – she had no family (or friends?) so, she dedicated herself to her job. She almost never left her cubicle, if she needed to talk to you she would call, of you weren’t there, she’d leave a message & you knew to either call her back, or go see her because she would never come to see you - she was very friendly; she just never left her cube (which ultimately may have been the problem). Apparently when they remodeled the building somehow her cubicle was walled off, or something & of course, she was working away & never noticed. Since then nobody has seen her, she’s stuck at work (somewhere) all the time & not only can’t leave, but can’t get paid. For a few weeks someone would receive an inner office envelope from her (until one day, she must have run out of them) but it’s been quite some time, at least for me. Nobody knows where to find her to give her, her check. It would be funny or ironic if she worked in payroll, but she doesn’t er, didn’t whatever. Being that the memo was so old I just threw it in the recycle bin & went through the rest of my mail. The rest of the day was uneventful & I daydreamed my way through it. Can you daydream during a dream? I guess so.

Later, after work, my band was playing at a rally of some sort – it may have been a “gay pride” rally. Since it was right across the street from the Amusement Park, it was well attended. I was playing drums & I was at the very back us the stage which was actually just the flatbed of a semi-trailer. I had to be careful that I didn’t fall off the back as it was an old trailer & I was way too close to the edge for my comfort level. For some strange reason the stage (trailer) was decorated like a little curio shop & we (the band) were set up amongst various lamps, chairs & knick-knacks.

We had barely started playing when a group of rednecks showed up & began taunting the gay’s crowd, who just smiled & kind of egged them on. The cops (who I hadn’t even noticed before) started to move in& stop the potential melee when all of a sudden the gay guys & the redneck guys began slow dancing with each other. This sudden (& surprising) turn of events defused the situation & everyone had a great time. I noticed that some of the cops were dancing as well.

After we were done playing, Lenny asked me if I wanted to get something to eat. I, of course did (playing always made me hungry), so we headed out to grab a bite to eat. The sun was going down as we passed the Amusement Park & went to this little restaurant on the corner. It was one of those places where they have all those “cute” little tables with white table cloths & on the tables were white cloth napkins folded to look like flower arrangements. We had to wait a super long time even though we could see that there were plenty of empty (not counting the faux-flowers) tables. In fact the whole place was almost empty…



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