Ever had a dream you swore was real? Not realistic, but real. Like you felt every feeling, took every breath? Like you got drunk with the original Power Rangers and you got a DUI for driving the Megazord kind of real. I do. I have them whenever I drink dark rum. I don’t know why dark rum does this to me but hey, I’m not complaining. The Dreaming Process is as follows: I have a nightcap, I go to bed, I start snoring, my mind leaves my body and materializes elsewhere. Some times I live whole life times in a single night. From birth to timely death I’ve been kings and warriors, a rapper and a guitarist, paupers and billionaires. Other times I just live a day. Last night was one such night.
I came home from the bar, went over to my nightstand, poured myself the allotted amount of dreamjuice, kissed my already sleeping girlfriend on the forehead and went to sleep. Not a hundred seconds later I was standing atop a hill, a valiant king returning from victory. My return was met with much fanfare, a parade and a feast. Hickory smoked pigs with apples adorned the long table at equal intervals, next to boiled vegetables, perfectly cooked bread, and a fish dish that didn’t look to appetizing. And there was mead, lots of it. Women too, lots of them as well. All of them gorgeous. I dined and feasted till I could no longer life my left arm to bring the leg of meat to my tired teeth. I then went to my royal quarters to rest for a bit because every great feast deserves a great rest. But it was not to be so. A wizard, who looked curiously like my best friend, gave me a special tonic and told me to drink every last drop. Seeing as how he looked to be my best friend, I trusted him and did just as he said.
As the last drop touched my lips, the lethargy that had burdened me suddenly evaporated, leaving me feeling like Hermes. Energy now coursed through my veins, made me stand taller, walk broader. What to do with all of it? To the Queen’s chambers of course! So off I went, a golden god-king, to make love to the most beautiful woman in all the many lands. I pictured it now and bit my lip in lusty anticipation. When I arrived, the door was slightly ajar. She must’ve been expecting me. ‘God bless that messenger’ I thought, and made a mental note to give whoever told my Queen of my return was to get a parcel of land and a goat. Every good deed deserves a goat.
I opened the door and announced my return, expecting a nude goddess with tasseled hair and rose petals all over her aching body. But no, instead she was clothed as a virgin angel, our favorite costume. So, in the spirit of role playing, I disrobed, dressed myself in the linens of a Saint, hefted the Staff of Divine Pleasure, and went to go receive my vision. On the way to my royal goose down bedding, a small bottle appeared in my hand with a puff of smoke and the wizard’s voice echoed in my mind. “Drink up.” I did. This time, everything went black.
My cell phone vibrates, rattling between my dehydrated brain and the kitchen linoleum. Apparently, I am not longer sleeping in my bed. I rub my bleary eyes and squint at the little LCD. My best friend forwarded a message my girlfriend sent him last night.
(815): He then proceeded to tear down my curtains, wrap them around his waist, and used the rod as his “rod” … you tell me how drunk he is…