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defrogI am attending a big annual BBQ dinner party weekender hosted by Holly Golightly (the singer/songwriter, not the Breakfast At Tiffany’s character).
The party is at her place, which is basically a huge old railroad warehouse by the tracks. It’s also by invitation only, which implies that I’m somehow a friend of hers in the dream (though of course in real life I’ve never met her). I do remember her making the rounds and saying, “Hey, there you are, glad you could make it.”
The set-up is a big spread-out buffet, and you wander from room to room trying out different kinds of food. One of the highlights of the food is one of Holly’s own recipes – a multi-layer chocolate cake, but the “multi-layer”part describes not the physical construction of the cake, but the flavor. As you eat it, you experience succeeding waves of flavor, each richer than the last. I keep dropping mine, but I’m determined to eat it because there’s only so much to go around, and there are at least a few hundred people at the party.
The party is intended to last the weekend, so there are rooms for everyone to stay overnight, and the warehouse is big enough to accommodate all of us.
Most of the dream involves me wandering around, talking to people and having a good time – until the end.
I am walking across the street from Holly’s place with some other people. For some reason we need to go to a convenience store on the other side of the main highway for some supplies. There are strange taxis patrolling the streets – they look like those old metal toy cars with boxy bodies and the detail painted on, but they’re supposed to be GTOs or Chargers. They have signs on them protesting the opening of some urine-processing factory nearby.
The convenience store looks closed, and there’s a guy in a leather jacket standing out front, He sees us coming and says, “Hey friends, nice night,” but his over-friendliness sets off alarm bells – I know immediately he intends to mug us, and thinking of all the cash I’m carrying, I am already saying, “Aw no, man, this is not what I need tonight” before he pulls an automatic out of his jacket and points it at us. Two other guys we didn't see before come out of the shadows.
One of the guys we’re with starts trying to defuse the situation, but the mugger knows he’s carrying a gun as well and tells him to toss it. Our guy signals to us not to worry, he has a plan. He slowly pulls out his gun, holding the butt by thumb and forefinger out to the mugger, and says, “See, it’s cool, this doesn’t have to end badly, we can all just walk away from this, we don’t want trouble …”
Suddenly he flips his wrist and the gun is firmly in his hand with his finger on the trigger. He fires three shots and shouts “RUN!”
We bolt, running around to the back parking lot behind the store, but as our guy didn’t hit any of the muggers, they are now chasing after us and shooting at us. As I run, bullets pinging off the asphalt and off a dumpster as I look for cover, I’m thinking, “That was yr plan?! Run, so they can shoot us in the back?! What the fuck kind of plan is that?!”
And then I woke up.
DISCLAIMER: I have no idea if Holly Golightly actually lives in a railroad warehouse, or if she has an annual BBQ dinner party. I’m guessing not.
Duck and cover,
This is dF
The party is at her place, which is basically a huge old railroad warehouse by the tracks. It’s also by invitation only, which implies that I’m somehow a friend of hers in the dream (though of course in real life I’ve never met her). I do remember her making the rounds and saying, “Hey, there you are, glad you could make it.”
The set-up is a big spread-out buffet, and you wander from room to room trying out different kinds of food. One of the highlights of the food is one of Holly’s own recipes – a multi-layer chocolate cake, but the “multi-layer”part describes not the physical construction of the cake, but the flavor. As you eat it, you experience succeeding waves of flavor, each richer than the last. I keep dropping mine, but I’m determined to eat it because there’s only so much to go around, and there are at least a few hundred people at the party.
The party is intended to last the weekend, so there are rooms for everyone to stay overnight, and the warehouse is big enough to accommodate all of us.
Most of the dream involves me wandering around, talking to people and having a good time – until the end.
I am walking across the street from Holly’s place with some other people. For some reason we need to go to a convenience store on the other side of the main highway for some supplies. There are strange taxis patrolling the streets – they look like those old metal toy cars with boxy bodies and the detail painted on, but they’re supposed to be GTOs or Chargers. They have signs on them protesting the opening of some urine-processing factory nearby.
The convenience store looks closed, and there’s a guy in a leather jacket standing out front, He sees us coming and says, “Hey friends, nice night,” but his over-friendliness sets off alarm bells – I know immediately he intends to mug us, and thinking of all the cash I’m carrying, I am already saying, “Aw no, man, this is not what I need tonight” before he pulls an automatic out of his jacket and points it at us. Two other guys we didn't see before come out of the shadows.
One of the guys we’re with starts trying to defuse the situation, but the mugger knows he’s carrying a gun as well and tells him to toss it. Our guy signals to us not to worry, he has a plan. He slowly pulls out his gun, holding the butt by thumb and forefinger out to the mugger, and says, “See, it’s cool, this doesn’t have to end badly, we can all just walk away from this, we don’t want trouble …”
Suddenly he flips his wrist and the gun is firmly in his hand with his finger on the trigger. He fires three shots and shouts “RUN!”
We bolt, running around to the back parking lot behind the store, but as our guy didn’t hit any of the muggers, they are now chasing after us and shooting at us. As I run, bullets pinging off the asphalt and off a dumpster as I look for cover, I’m thinking, “That was yr plan?! Run, so they can shoot us in the back?! What the fuck kind of plan is that?!”
And then I woke up.
DISCLAIMER: I have no idea if Holly Golightly actually lives in a railroad warehouse, or if she has an annual BBQ dinner party. I’m guessing not.
Duck and cover,
This is dF
