Last night I dreamed a real dream.
Boring, you say? Problem is, I rarely remember my dreams. Worse yet, they are truly boring dreams. Almost all my dreams are dull, daily tasks. Two weeks ago I dreamed I got out of my car, pumped gas, got back in, and drove away.
One might say, well, you didn’t pay! Or, there were flying space alien monkeys attacking and that’s why you were pumping gas…in a hurry! Or, you were pumping gas in your brand new Lamborghini! Nope. Nope. And nope. All I did was nonchalantly get out of my Ford Focus, walk to the pump, swipe my card, pump the gas, return the nozzle, and drive away. That’s it. Proof that I have zero imagination inherent in my DNA. I’m a dull oaf.
That is, until last night. Before last night, I had not encountered a truly imaginative dream since my childhood. Want to know my dream from last night? Of course you do!
We were all held up in a giant stone building. It was shaped like a house but the walls and floors looked like a castle dungeon (and not one of those fun dungeons with whips and chains and sexy dominatrices in leather). The first scene had us sitting on a couch. One of the girls told me one of the others like me (so 5th grade, I know, bear with me…I’m new to the dream world). As I scooted in beside the girl who was accused of liking me, I instinctively knew it was actually the OTHER girl that liked me. But no bother, it was THIS girl I liked. And since I’m apparently Romeo in my cool dreams, I played it cool to get in with the girl I did like.
She proceeded to tell me we could date as long as I allowed her to date another man just as often and that we would live together, reverse polygamy style. Unfortunately, this is where this part of the story ends and the ‘fun’ begins.
All of a sudden (as is customary in dreams apparently), we were under attack from something outside. I think it started as an alien invasion that everyone knew was coming, it was just a matter of when, but it quickly transitioned into a giant green tornado with a thought process ravaging the countryside.
We all took shelter in the dungeon’s dungeon basement, which looked an awful lot like my childhood basement…which, thinking back, did look like a dungeon. Unfinished dirt floor, old wooden planks for stairs, and a smell somewhere between musty cave and the inside of a dryer lint trap.
At this point, I distinctly remember something magical happening, but it escapes me now. I think it had to do with people having superpowers and trying to be heroes. But when the sentient green tornado disappeared, everyone was back in the dungeon’s dungeon.
Slowly, we made our way out of the dungeon’s dungeon to find ourselves all alone. We assumed we were the last ones left on the planet. Spirits dwindled. Then I heard a helicopter. Night had fallen. But in the distance I saw what looked like the helicopter searching for survivors. I kept screaming for a flashlight and running around the room frantically. Nobody seemed to know what I was doing or for what reason. How frustrating!
I found a cheap BIC lighter and ran outside. There I tried to light it. Murphy’s Law rings true in dreams, too. The damn thing refused to do anything more than spark. The helicopter passed. The lighter lit. The smallest glimmer of a flame resulted. I swear it mocked me.
Then, at the base of our castle house’s obligatory windy road driveway, a convoy of giant armored vehicles rolled through, apparently also searching for survivors. We were saved!
I ran back inside the castle house to tell everyone. That’s when one of our friends brought out a large chrome box the size of a massive treasure chest. Setting it down on the floor, she pushed a button. It came to life. It unfolded and rose up, nearly crashing into the rafters which I had not noticed till this moment. It was the ugliest, boxy Transformer-like creature ever (apparently my imagination only stretches so far). It’s head and torso was the chrome treasure chest itself, giant box arms and legs came out of it.
It did several back flips in revelry over our being saved. We all yelled at him…or her…to stop before they broke one of the rafters and killed us all. The robot stopped and apologized, but not before knocking it’s head on one of the rafters.
That’s where it ended.
I just needed to get this on paper before it all disappeared from my memory. I’m certain there are other pieces missing already like…I’m pretty sure the robot played a more prominent role, and I think I recall running around looking to be a hero while the green tornado tore through the town. But these details are already so blurry it’s wrong of me to try to convince you of something that may, or may not, have happened in my dream.