Dreams: Evil Reminders
Aside from my dreams, this past weekend was quite an entertaining one. Friday night, I hit my usual drinking hole, although I was surprised that nobody I knew was there. It seems to happen every other week—one week I’ll know several people, and the next week, nobody at all. I couldn’t even find a spot at the bar to just sit and brood into my Dead Horse. I wandered around the bar, not really talking to anyone, just watching the happy-go-lucky people laugh and shoot pool. It wasn’t until around last call that I met Kelly. We’d been eyeing each other for a few minutes, although I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me or checking out the message board above my head. Turns out he was looking at me, and he introduced himself as I stood in line for my last beer and the check. As an aside, David and Jim both know my drink of choice now. They tend to have it ready for me by the time I hit the front of the line.
Kelly and his two roommates (Scott and Greg, boyfriends) were playing darts, so I joined them, where I subsequently lost in spectacular fashion. We played until the bar closed and were asked to leave. I followed them to their house, where we crashed on the couch to watch “Derailed”. Their house came across as a typical homo abode, well-maintained, well-decorated, clean and sparsely furnished with electronics. Their three dogs were well-trained, and the smallest, Eros, a Russell Jack Terrier, played with a racket ball most of the night. Kelly’s room had the prerequisite framed B&W photos of well-muscled men in various states of undress.
The following morning, after downing some coffee and showering, we parted ways. They were going to see “Saw V”, which I wanted to see, but my sister had invited me to see my nephew’s final football game of the season. I couldn’t say no to that. Kelly and I exchanged numbers. I hope that isn’t the last I’ve seen of him.
But it was Saturday night, after dancing the night away at Babylon, when my weekend took a turn for the worse. There was a time when I enjoyed going to sleep, to dream of flying, of an ideal life, of riches beyond my wildest imagination. Over the last couple of weeks, however, my dreams have turned against me, and for whatever reason, I don’t enjoy the prospect of going to sleep. Lately, my dreams have been revolving around people in my life that I no longer see. Like a cruel joke that my unconscious mind is playing on me, the Wonder Boys have started infiltrating my dreams. Just when I think I’ve shaken them from my mind, and think I may have a shot at getting past them, my dreams turn against me and remind me of the times I spent with them. Why must I be tormented by my own sleep? What reason might there be? Of all the things I could be dreaming about, why do they have to be the subject?
I tried to get my mind off things by going to Brewvies for the free showings of “Evil Dead 2” and “Army of Darkness”, but it didn’t really help. Since Rey is a huge Bruce Campbell fan (hell, his online alias is a quote from one of those very movies!), I couldn’t help but think about him. He wanted to come see the movies, but as usual, he chose instead to spend his night with David. I tried to convince him to join me, but I’d have more luck teaching an old dog a new trick. The crowd was doing its best MST3K impression, making fun and cheering along with the movie. It was a good way to spend a Sunday night, but I sat and felt alone. It is times like that when I miss the boys the most.