I think I've been experiencing some less-than-favourable drug interactions, which is how I explain the outpouring of nonsensicality that was my never-ending dream from two nights ago. I still maintain that when I awoke in the wee hours of the morning to discover that I had kicked off four of my six layers of blankets and wrapped one of the remaining blankets around my neck, I kept dreaming while awake. And not lucid dreaming, where I am aware of my dreaming state and can control the events of my dream. Just straight-up dreaming while awake (I always wished my life could be more like a Judy Blume novel).
Here are some highlights:
I arrived at Chinook Station, which was of course nothing at all like Chinook Station. It was a huge complex surrounded by rolling hills covered in snow. On one of said hills was gathered a crowd of geeky teens all glued (not a figure of speech) to their personal gaming systems, participating in a virtual reality together. A sign on the opposite hill indicated that the site was the only naturally-occurring Wi-Fi hotspot in the world. As I climbed the next hill, I noticed a group of children gathered behind a metal railing, overlooking the train tracks a few meters below. One of the children was a minor character from the British TV serial Skins, and as I approached him, he pushed a boy down the hill toward the train, or at least tried to and was foiled by my fine-tuned reflexes and caring heart. My bravery earned me the attention of a boy I had known back in Regina.
When I reached Chinook, I discovered that it was a shopping complex, my university, and an abandoned-hotel-turned-apartment-complex where squatters' rights were the only rights. I met up with Rebs and D-rock in Aldo, where I realized that I had half an hour to get to work and open the store. We learned a quick sociology lesson based on sole depth and then Rebs offered to drive me to work in her 'killer truck', which is how she referred to her Neon. Then I spied some Germans giving away free leather purses in the hallway and decided to prioritize. I tried to catch the attention of Prince Goebels and his bedazzled satchels, but was unsuccessful. So I followed him for a while. Eventually I found him crying in a corner because his business plan of giving a way the merchandise wasn't panning out as he'd expected, and his home country was going to disown him.
Then I found myself walking up some stairs with a friend of mine from high school. He said, "My room's just up here. When we get there, we shall finally make love for the first time." I thought, "Uh, sure, that sounds okay. But maybe just some heavy petting." When we got to his room, a Vietnamese woman was making the beds. There were seven beds in the room, all with identical bedspreads of pale orange and blue plaid. There were two sets of bunk beds. It was like a low-income ski chalet from the '70s. Excited as I was to 'finally make love' with this boy who had appeared out of thin air, I realized that I had five minutes to get to work. I ransacked the room in search of my phone so that I could alert my manager, but I couldn't find it. I also couldn't locate my remote cell phone starter/beeper. But the boy located my remote cell phone starter's starter and hit the locater button. We followed the beeps to another squatter's room. She threw my beeper at me, furious that I was using such outdated technology.
I knew I needed to get out of Chinook, so I ran to the closest set of stairs. The stairs were like Jacob's Ladder, with streams of figures moving up and down on the stairs. I ran into Taylor Lautner, who handed me a long stick and recommended pole vaulting up the stairs to avoid the crowds. Then when I had vaulted a few flights, Taylor Lautner apparently realized that I was an intruder and could not be allowed to escape. He and his stairwell lacrosse team confronted me and I had to defeat them. We fought each other with oversized spatulas until it was just me against Lautner. I hit him in the face a few times to weaken him, but apparently I just killed him. Uh-oh. With all of Chinook out for my blood, I ran full-tilt until I reached the surface. There I met my mother in her friend's Chevette, loaded full of blankets to shield me from the view of my lynch mob.
Maybe it was the nachos I ate before bed.
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