Well folks, this dream is from a friend from way back when. It is damn funny and is extra AWESOME because he had no idea of my interest in other people’s dreams or that my blog even existed and we haven’t spoken in years. So, the other morning I woke to this email:
Subject: My Dream featuring you and surly Bobby
So here’s how my dream went last night (it’s a little hazy, but I’ll do my best to recount):
You and I were working as veteran servers at some mountain resort, but the season was nearing an end, so we had to take the rookies and those who couldn’t handle the job back to civilization. You and I hopped into our two tiny cars (like something a child would ride in, a toy), which were motorized, and had the rookies and misfits follow us out of the hills. The whole thing was being filmed for a reality TV show.
There was one young fellow named Bobby (probably about 13 years old) who was far too camera shy to make it in a resort-reality TV show, so he was canned by management, and thus, needed to be taken out of the mountains too.
But Bobby was surly and and a little snotty, and you and I didn’t care much for him and neither did management. And it just so happened that the only transportation available for Bobby to get out of the mountains on was a great big cow, but we didn’t have any way for him to ride on top of the cow, so management took a tiny stroller-like contraption and strapped it around the cow so Bobby would have to ride underneath the cow (like where the udders would be). Bobby strongly disliked the arrangement, but there were no other options, so he squeezed into his uncomfortable ride and we were off to take this motley crew back to the city. (Bobby looked ridiculous, by the way.)
So we’re riding along through the mountains, and we decide to take a rest stop at a place that was not unlike the 50,000 Silver Dollar Bar off I-90 in western Montana. We use the restrooms and pick up some funny trinkets (you and I were having a ball this whole time, laughing and laughing), but it was time to get back on the road (we were never actually on roads; we traveled solely across grassy fields). Everybody’s loaded up except for Bobby, who was yet again complaining about his assigned mode of transportation. Finally, after listening to him gripe long enough, I turned to him from the seat of my tiny car (you were parked right next to me), and I said, “Bobby, get back in your cow.”
You and I laughed and laughed and laughed at that, and we started to drive away singing some song. I can’t remember many of the words, but the line I do recall (and the line that caused me to literally wake up laughing) went like this:
“We’ll need some Spackle,
and some tackle,
to manage all the holes!”
I wrote that down as soon as I woke up.
Guess I’m thinking about you. (I wonder if Bobby’s cow had anything to do with us watching “Gotta’ have more cow bell” in employee housing all those years ago.)
How are things?