sfXian

musings of a budding social entrepeneur

Sunday, March 06, 2005

dreamlog

I just had this crazy ass dream that I was at this NBA all star game in las vegas. they were serving complimentary prime rib during the halftime show, but the lines were way too long... so alan and i said, fuggit, lets get some burger king instead.
so we ordered some bk and then walked around while we waited for our food. later we got back to pick up our orders, but they weren't ready. so we waited around some more only to discover that our orders had been lost somehow. before getting completely irate and throwing a hissy-fit, i tendered a deal.
"Since you lost our orders, how about just subbing my royale with cheese with a slab of prime rib". I don't know why this didn't seem like a fair trade to the cashier, but she wasn't having it. "Sorry sonny, get in line like everyone else if you want the prime-rib".
So I lost my shit, yelling and screaming at the cashier, a bitchy woman in her late 60's. "I'm trying to give you a break here bitch! What the hell kind of customer service is this? My way, right away?!? We've been waiting for over an hour for our 'fast food' and now you're telling me that i need to wait some more? geez!"...
Out of the corner of my mind, i hear a voice say, "why don't you just fix yourself a quesadiLLa?".. what?

screw bk. alan and i leave without our food and split up for a second. i'm walking across the court as the halftime show preparations come into swing... a flash of cash laying on the hardwood catches my eye, i instantaneously swoop it up. two dollars. sweet. i see a safeway receipt wadded up around what looks to be like some more greens and i repeat the motion.
as i peel back the receipt, i glance down to my hand to see a few twenties, a 50 a 500 and a 1000 dollar bill!! do they even make those? paranoia invades as i scan the crowd around me. i cross eyes with a spur-sporting cowboy who says, "hey dude, that's my money!" GASP!
I hand him the two bucks that i had picked up just before... "here you go sir",,, "well, shucks, thanks sonny"..

why's everyone calling me "sonny"?

Where the hell is alan? i bump into stephen copp and he asks me if i'm going to be an extra in shaq's halftime show. he's going to be one of 'shaq's prisoners'.
apparently shaq is attempting a comeback as an mc and is doing the halftime show with beyonce... and there's a prison theme to it. they need extras to standin the background behind bars as prisoners.
brilliant, if i change into the prison getup and join the show, nobody, particularly the owner of this huge wad of monopoly money will recognize me... but crap, if I need to run the this damn ball and chain may slow me down.

what should i do?

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