What Dreams

Let me tell you about a dream I had.

Taylor Swift and I were out for a date night. We seemed to be past the initial intimate stages, where everything is hunky-dory, yet still in that phase with hand-holding and a desire for closeness — but with more quiet. Lower energy. A big fire dying down, now just radiating warmth and crackling pleasantly.

It was some sort of comedy show. Live. We were snuggled up in the first row. Onstage, the comedian told some rather bland, safe jokes while standing in front of a wagon.

At the intermission (what comedian has intermissions?), we decided to head out to the bar in the lounge. Some handsome gentleman popped in, hugged Swift and they chattered about having not seen each other in so long. I knew I’d lost her. Not in a sad way, I didn’t even feel jealous. It was just intuitive. Something about the way they moved, looked at each other, when he offered to buy her a drink and she let him. I wasn’t upset, but I knew.

I excused myself to use the restroom. Took a dump. Nothing spectacular there.

I stepped out of the stall and saw myself in the mirror. I was wearing a tuxedo jacket, shirt, tie. I was wearing gray sweatpants, white socks, and black crocs. I suddenly felt very out of place and unworthy.

Another gentleman entered the room. It was Leo, but he wasn’t now Leo, he was Leo from “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape,” but a little less cognitively impaired. He took off his tux top and shirt. He started washing his arms, lathering them up over the faucet.

“I always make a mess!” he said to me.

“That’s okay,” I replied, taking off my shirt and tux top as well and giving them to him, “Sometimes I shit my sweatpants.”

Without another word, I left him. I walked back to the lounge. The guy was gone, Swift was at a table with some of her friends. The guy had vanished, but there was a half empty bottle of whiskey on the table and she looked sad and smashed. I noticed there was an open seat beside her and decided I would run a final test, to see if my prior intuition had been correct.

“Mind if I join you all?” I asked. Her friends gawked at me. She smiled and said, “Of course,” and then moved the chair beside her to across the table from her, so the table would be between us.

“I forgot something,” I said. She said okay, and I left her, I presume, forever. I went back and started to watch the show from the back hallway. Leo was there, in his tux.

“I appreciate what you did,” he told me. I said no problem.

“Let’s go get trashed in the balcony.”

Okay, I said.

Then I woke up.

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