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    just drive, man; chips and deodorant

    by , 12-08-2011 at 02:21 PM (386 Views)
    Good morning, everybody.

    Dream #1

    I was on the top bunk of a bunk bed with two other men. There may have been other people in the bedroom. The top bunk felt pretty high and pretty close to the ceiling. The bedroom felt pretty busy. There may have been a TV blaring in one corner of the room. There was a window letting in a lot of bright, winter light.

    The men on the bed with me were both white, gay, and probably in their mid- to late-thirties. They were laying in weird positions under blankets. The bed seemed to have tons of different blankets on it. So each of the guys had his own blanket.

    The guys both started talking to me about going to some country in Europe. They said I'd probably like it a lot better than I'd like the United States. They were reall encouraging me to go.

    Finally I said I couldn't go. I didn't have a passport. They may have said something about how they couldn't believe that. I said, "No. Really. I've never been outside the US in my entire life."

    I was about to qualify that statement, since it wasn't quite true. But both guys were now so shocked that they interrupted me. One of the guys, dressed in a feminine kind of shirt, black, with the shoulders way low, exposing a shoulder strap, like a bra-strap, said, "No, no. Stop! Just drive, man! Just get out and drive!"

    (At this point, a song started playing in my head with the words, "just drive, man, just get out and drive.")

    I knew by this that the guy meant I should just finally get out of America and go see the world. I had no idea how they expected me to do this. But I may have gotten the idea later that the two guys were actually going to give me money to do this.

    Dream #2

    I was standing in line at a huge drug store. The line seemed to be curving along the right end of a pharmacy counter, then along a wall.

    I was a couple people back in line, and I stared at a bag of chips I was holding while I waited. My chips were some dark red bag of Doritos. But the bag was old, like the 1970s style of bag.

    I soon headed over to a cashier. She was a young, black woman, kind of overweight, with hair about between jaw-length and shoulder-length.

    The woman rang up my chips. She may have held onto them for a long time. Maybe she never gave me the chips back. But she told me they cost four dollars. We had some kind of pleasant conversation about this.

    I was walking down the counter, as if I were now ready to walk out of the store. But I went up to another cashier. This time I was buying deodorant.

    The cashier was maybe Latino. He had olive-colored skin, a bald-shaved head, and a bit of stubble on his face. He was tallish, and kind of strong. But he was gay and acted a tiny bit effeminate.

    The cashier told me that I was paying way too much for this deodorant. He told me that if I had a club card, I would pay much less for a similar kind of deodorant. The new price may have been $2.69.

    I told the man that I did have a club card. I pulled my keychain (? - I think) out of my pocket. There was a mini club-card on it. But it looked all faded out, like I'd worn it out by holding it in my pocket for too long.

    I then realized that I simply hadn't taken off some kind of protective seal that had been placed over the barcode. It was like a mildly adhesive strip of semi-opaque, white plastic. I peeled this off. The barcode for the club card looked fine.

    I handed the card to the man. The man rang me up for a deodorant. As I was paying him, either the previous cashier or another cashier who looked a lot like her walked up to the left end of the cashier counter. The man told the woman, as if he'd asked her, that he was giving me the club card deal on deodorant.

    The woman looked a little annoyed that the man would have given me any of the club card deals. I now remembered that the previous cashier hadn't told me about any club card deals. I wondered if these two women had been trying to hide the club card deals from me.

    I now felt terribly shy and afraid, like I'd overstepped some kind of totem-boundary by having taken a club card deal when the women didn't want me to. All I wanted to do was get out of the store. I thanked the man and walked away.

    But I only walked a couple meters away, to a row of shelves directly facing the left end of the cashier counter. The shelves were stocked with deodorant.

    I was looking directly at the deodorant the man said I should buy. It was maybe the Tom's of Maine brand, and it may have had something like olive oil in it. The packaging was an off-white or olivey-beige color.

    The deodorant seemed to be with other stuff, too, like hand soap using similar ingredients. There may also have been some display for the products, like they were in some kind of wicker basket, or like they were standing on top of a small bale of hay.

    I suddenly realized that, even though I'd paid the man for my deodorant, I'd never actually gotten it. I figured I should just pick out one of these deodorants and take it with me. I may have knelt down to get a deodorant.

    But now the man called from behind me. Either the man threw a trial-size deodorant at me, or the trial-size deodorant fell from the shelves. The man told me he'd forgotten to give me a deodorant. But he'd give one to me right now.

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