- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1366
It's the standard waiter's nightmare. I'm in the restaurant, serving table, they just keep coming in and in, I can't find the kitchen, get the orders quick enough, and eventually I give up and sit down to eat.
It's the restaurant where I work, only it's not, it's a large mansion, "The Haunted Mansion", that sits atop center street overlooking the bridge and the city and the restaurant is in the basement...
"G", my partner, he finds me sitting and eating and yells at me, it's 6:00 PM, I shouldn't be eating now and I'm fed up, fed up with this working and not ever being caught up and so I tell him to f#$Q%! himself and walk out.
I'm filled with regret almost as soon as I leave the restaurant. There's a big slide that goes down the hill from Center street, leaves the restaurant, and now I return to pick up my things, final cheque, the owner is there in the center of the restaurant, center of a marble floor in front of staircases that go both up and down, I've never been upstairs, he doesn't speak to me, he's mad, nor does Franco or G, they're all mad at me for leaving and I'm remorseful, this was not how I wanted it to end, and jobs nowadays are tough to find, this is going to be difficult...
I take the slide down from the restaurant, the last table is leaving, they're taking the slide as well, they're a nice family, rich, all our customers are. And I'm wondering how this is the last table, there were so many just a few moments ago when I was inside, I get off the slide at the bottom and looking under it, at the supports that hold it up, and there are giant fossil shark teeth embedded in the stone, and I'm annoyed at having discovered this treasure just after having left my job, and I'm sad as well, having taken the fun slide down the hill, that I'll never be able to take my daughter on it, we're not rich enough, her and I, and I can't afford to take her on it because I'm poor and I no longer work here....
I'm looking at the neighborhood, where the slide exits, trying to remember how to get here so I can sneak back in and steal some more of these shark's teeth....
**Note: this is an entirely explicable dream in terms of daily events, life at the restaurant, conversations with child, etc. Very straightforward.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1311
2 naps in 1 day. I am exhausted.
This time I'm in a pub in London, not the London I used to live in but another London, similar but in a parallel universe, waiting tables, it's my first night on the job and I'm completely lost, someone, a waiter in a pub - restaurant. A waiter I used to work with there a long time ago hands me a beer and a cup of coffee and tells me to take it to "the Reverend" who's in the far end of restaurant...table 95 he says, I ask where it is and he tells me to cut through the barn and I'll find it...
I'm cutting through the barn and the little paddocks and this calf takes a shine to me, like an over eager dog, keeps leaping up on me and licking my face, I can't find my way, can't lose the calf, finally I take this shortcut through an open storefront where I tie the calf to a nail on the office desk....
"Well I never..." say the proprietors of the store, they're talking about the calf that's still wanting to play with me...
I ask where table 95 is, they give me directions, I'm off and searching again, the hotel/restaurant, it's at the far end, and I'm lost because the blocks are all crooked, they don't run parallel with the streets, and time is running, has run out....
Finally I find it, a small pub, there are a bunch of legless dwarfs in it, dressed in odd clothes, playing cards but not regular playing cards, other, odd cards, one plays a hand, the other says something, I'm looking for the Reverend, I think I see him, the dwarfs are making calls as they lay down their cards, one of them makes a call in an unusually deep voice with a heavy North American Accent, I look at him for a second and I recognize Tom Korte, whom I haven't seen since elementary school..."Tom Korte I presume" I say, stepping forward to shake his hand, glad at the familiar face in a strange land...."I didn't recognize you, you look.....well... different", he takes this the wrong way, he looks odd, a coconut shaped head, long features like a monkey carved into a coconut; he seems to realize my awkwardness and takes offense; "I'm doing very well, thank you...my investments have worked out nicely...."
And I'm running again, I've given up, lost in this London-not-London, trying to find my way on foot between distant remembered tube stops, to find Fleet street or Piccadilly Circus or someplace, anyplace that I can remember, there's someone I have to meet, I feel bad about leaving my job but I'd have never found my way anyways, was too lost, I wonder about the person, a friend (I don't know who) who had gotten work with me at the pub, but they'll be all right.....
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1527
We're downstairs in the basement, the owner and I, it's a dug-out basement, unfinished cement floors and walls, sitting and having coffee. Light streams in from a walk out patio; for a moment - just a moment - the light crosses his face, it's beautiful - jet black hair, vivid, startling blue eyes, he's very handsome and I say that I want a camera, he doesn't understand but someone runs to get me a camera....
They bring it to me, it's an old Minolta or some such, film camera, and I'm a little amazed but it has all these little cardboard key cards on a thread hanging from it, and as I begin to take pictures I understand, he's had it adapted to digital, each photo I snap cycles the key-cards through it, I'm making him stand and move forward, trying to recapture the slash of light across his face as it was there for just a minute before, it's no use.....
We end up outside, the light, it was that of the setting sun, we're around the house now, still taking photos, there are clouds in the sky and the patches of light disappear quicker than we can find them, the moment's been lost....
Now, through his yard on this farm, there comes a wind, then a slender tornado...and I realize why the light was so eerie; we dodge it, then run through some trees to look, from the east there comes a storm, multiple tornadoes touch narrow fingers to the ground and we turn to run for shelter but it's too late, it's upon us -
And for a moment it's quiet...all to the east, we're in the very eye of the storm, within the cut swathe of destruction, strange shapes clutter the grounds, it takes but a second to recognize stegosauruses, giant dragons, winged fairies, simulacra and demons all cavorting in the strange, unquiet peace that permeates this place....beside me the owner asks me what it is he's seeing, he doesn't trust his eyes, I snap a picture and the flash alerts them to our presence, the storm reawakens and we're running for shelter again, the house with it's concrete basement has imploded...
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1338
We're getting along famously, Rob, Margaret and I. These are the people I work for.
And in the dream I'm working for them, cleaning a fieldstone fireplace. Margaret has an old E-Type Jaguar that she drives everywhere, it needs some work, some TLC, and I'm trying to persuade her to sell it.
Rob, he has an old Jaguar too, but he's staying out of the conversation, we're cleaning the fireplace together. There are children playing behind us, Margaret's looking after them, it's what she does. Greg has an old car too, something like what Fozzy Bear drove in "The Muppet Movie", only in better condition, new paint job, better interior, although what that has to do with anything is a mystery. Everyone seems to have an old car.
I'm trying to buy Margaret's, she doesn't really want it, but has suddenly contrived an attachment to it now that I'm interested in it. She wants to know what it's worth, I'm trying to lowball her, a few hundred dollars I tell her, depends on the year, it needs a paint job, some body work...
I wake up and my big toe is throbbing.
**Odd dream. Cheery, hopeful in tone. Apart from the characters, however, there's no grounding whatsoever in reality. None. Not a bit. Not in the fireplace, the children, the possibility that I'll be buying an E-Type Jaguar even for $2.00. Absolutely none.**
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1413
I'm in a room speaking to an older woman, her husband designed the 1949 Silver Canadian Dime. It looks just like the regular dime, but the queen's head is split into half, the one half the same formal representation on every dime, the other half is a sort of Matisse - styled abstraction, a bit like the figure on the French Centime...I'm impressed, I don't know why, this isn't something that would ordinarily impress me, I ask her how many were minted but she postpones my questions for her husband, I look around her house, it's nice, darker, furnished with fine antiques and paintings, she gives me a dime to keep....
And now I'm escaping from someone, don't know or remember who, I duck into a church, the 7th Day Adventists...It's like a church basement, no chairs, people sitting in the middle of the floor, too brightly lit....
Richard Pryor is there, he's naked and conducting a sort of Bingo, everyone's got some sort of scratch card with a bunch of different playing cards depicted on them, he's calling numbers and they scratch off the corresponding card...I decide to play to pass the time while hiding out....
He turns around, and while I shouldn't look I can't help but notice how hairy his ass is, really, a beard that grows down between his legs and balls, but nobody seems to mind...