Wednesday, October 31, 2007

I had trouble sleeping last night, so I had a few dreams. This is what I can remember:

"He's a freak . . . He's the fastest kid alive. . ."
A kid, perhaps in his early teens, walks into the store and asks Jes, one of the assistant managers where something is. As he does so, he takes a swig of what looks to be rum from a bottle. The bottle is mostly empty, with only a little bit of amber liquid at the bottom. Jes tells him that he can't drink in the store and then leaves him. I watch him continue to drink from the bottle and begin harassing people. I confront him and tell him that he has to leave. He defiantly takes another shot and then starts running. I start to chase him throughout the store and finally out the doors. The pavement is wet and I am running in dress shoes. He zig zags and through the parking lot, avoiding my grasp until I finally let up, satisfied that he is far enough away from the store.

I'm driving Babe through some back country dirt roads. As I'm driving, I plow through a pile of leaves that are in the middle of the road. I feel bad about ruining someone's hard work, though I am a bit mystified as to why someone would rake leaves and then leave them on the road. I slalom the rest of the piles of leaves.

I pull onto College Avenue and parallel park Babe across the street from The Lyric. As I am getting my things together, I look into my rear view mirror and notice something moving around in the truck behind me. It's a Ford F-250 and in the passenger seat, she sits there. I can see the glow of her cigarette through the darkness. At this point, she doesn't know that I know she's behind me so I gather my stuff, get out of my car and head inside, making sure I don't look behind me.

We're at the dinner table, and I make no effort to engage her in conversation. I instead focus on the people nearest me. I don not necessarily ignore her, but I try and avoid putting myself in a situation to talk with her. After dinner, I leave and go to my room. She calls me. I can't remember the last time she has called me. I reluctantly answer the phone. She tells me that she felt a distance between us at dinner. I have no words for her. I hang up the phone.

"Night Game"
I forgot to do my homework. On top of that, I left my book in my locker and did not bring it to class with me. I sit in quiet suspense, waiting to be reprimanded. Instead, she gives us the class off since we have a game that night.

I walk to the stadium and meet up with some people. She is there with a mutual friend. I'm shocked because football is something I did not think she would enjoy watching. We start to walk towards the concourse and I break away from the group as I am in charge of hoisting the baby to the top. As I am leaving, I notice the two of them holding hands. I can't say that I am too surprised.

One of the pre-game rituals is to strap a baby into a basket and hoist it up the side of the stadium. Connected to the basket is an extension cord. Once at the top, we hand the baby off and then throw the extension cord over the railing. Once that is done, we can retrieve it and plug it in. If you miss, the cord falls to the ground and it has to be done again. This an integral part of the pre-game and it must be completed before the team takes the field. I think the extension cord actually powers the scoreboard. I can hear the band playing the "Jaws" theme, so I hurry and plug in the cord.

I make it to our seats just in time to watch the game get under way.

Listening to: Wilco - Ashes Of American Flags
via FoxyTunes

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