9:55 p.m. - 2005-04-08
A dream about dead people driving Mustangs
Okay.
I was living with my parents, as was my sister, Katie. Because the house was getting worked on, we all slept on mattresses in my old bedroom, which faces the street. One night, Mom, Dad, and I went to bed at the same time, but about 5 minutes later, the doorbell rang. I guess I was the only one still awake enough to hear it, so I went downstairs and found Katie trying to break into the kitchen window. She was bitching about how it stressed her out when no one answered the door right away, and she didn't need any more stress. For some reason, I took this to mean that she had an interview with her boss to ask for a raise.
We went upstairs to my old room, but Mom and Dad had found another room to sleep in. Katie and I were talking, when I glanced out the window and saw two white Mustang convertibles (late model, but not the 2005) sitting on the street, under a street light, with their front bumpers touching. "Oooh," I said. "The Mustangs are kissing!" Right as Katie looked, one Mustang pushed the other one a few feet, which then swerved backwards into a parking space.
I looked at Katie for a second, but then two tall, thin, oriental guys got out of the cars. They were dressed in black sports jackets, white shirts, and black pants. Their hair was spiky, and they wore bright blue contacts (kind of like whatshername in the second X-Men movie that couldn't beat Wolverine because he's too badass).
Anyway, these guys totally didn't pay any attention to us staring at them from my 2nd story bedroom window. In unison, they each went to the Mustang that was parked in the parking space and pulled a cadaver out of the backseat. The cadavers were in full rigor, and had been stacked on the seat, lying down. They were dressed in the same clothes, but one had brown hair and the other had blond. The oriental guys propped the dead guys against the same car they came from, did a unison kick to the midsections of each to bend the dead guys at their waists, then did some other unison karate-chop things to position their arms in front of them and bend their knees.
When the dead guys were positioned correctly, the oriental guys dropped them behind the steering wheel of each Mustang, then pulled remote controls from inside their jackets, and made the cars drive off with the dead guys looking like they were driving. Right then, a third white Mustang drove up and the oriental guys got in, then the car drove away.
Katie called the police while I went downstairs and outside to look at where this had all happened. They hadn't left any tire marks, and I guess the whole thing was so quiet that none of the other neighbors woke up. Katie came down to the street and said she'd called the police, right as a white sedan drove up. An old Chinese guy got out and handed me a banana peel, saying, "Take this, is gift for you!" I took it, and he drove away. Katie and I went back into the house and sat at the window to see if anything else happened.
Back in my room, she said that the police told her they weren't sending anyone because "there are 40,000 people trying to sleep right now."
Dad woke up and came into the room, just as my neighbor, Fred, ran across the street and back. When he saw the light on and us sitting in the window, he looked up and said he just needed to go water the corn. Dad said, "Tell him he may have some extra candy." We told him.
Some other people showed up in my room, too, and were talking about some guy who worked at Frisch's who was a real whacko, and his name was Vito Rafferty. He took dessert creation at Frisch's so seriously that he thought the recipes were from an advanced race of aliens, and he had "THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE" tattooed across his chest. Katie and I thought that was funny, since he lived in a duplex where we used to live.
Also, at some point, we went to Kroger, and I was happy to note that the price of pop from the pop machine was going down from $6.50 to $1.00 per can. That was exciting.
I finally went back to Hoxworth today to donate blood after reading that several recent shootings have turned Cincinnati "into Dodge City" and are depleting our blood supply. It's been just over a year since I got the girls pierced (happy anniversary to them!), so right after I decided to go in, I checked the mail and found a postcard. On it, the drop of blood (the Hoxworth mascot) had his tongue pierced. "Tattoos and piercings are OK!"
I was planning to stay out a little longer, but it's been over a year since I donated blood, and was just tired. So the dream above is from the nice, long, bloodless nap that I took after donating.
Also, everyone who can stand needles should donate blood as often as they're allowed.
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