In the Land of Dream, the Two-Named Man is Ass
I had a dream ("a dream about you, baby!") that literally made me JOLT out of my slumber & commence to weeping. Yes, I'm becoming overly emotional & unbalanced even in my non-waking life. Perfect.
It was a overcast afternoon in the dream world. Specks of gray & black clouds darted the foreboding sky. There was a tinge of sex in the air ("WHAT!?"...chill out) as Michelle drove Alison & I drove into a Wal-Mart ('twas a nightmare, wasn't it?) parking lot. Her car = her rules. We each had a list of groceries to purchase, so we split up to run our errands. As I sauntered around the back end of the store, the atmosphere became darker & more sexy. The smell of sex was in the air.
For those who don't know, the smell of Dreamland sex is typically 85% regret, 6% erection, & 9% "HIM?!/HER?!/THEM?! WHAT WAS I THINKING!?"
I saw a computer set up to Craigslist's MenForMen page. There was a dude was looking for a NSA hookup...at that very same Wal-Mart...at that very same moment. Dreamland allows for horny no-holds-barred encounters, so I replied to his ad & set up a meeting.
::yadda yadda yadda.::
It eventually dawned on me that I had kept Alison & Michelle waiting as I canoodled with the Craigslist Stranger in the Easy Living aisle. Without hearing from me for forty-five minutes (my ::yadda yadda::ing stamina is obviously in peak condition in Dreamland), Michelle called my cellphone with anger in her voice. Not rage anger, but rather something far worse: guilty sad anger
This is where the moral of my dream (and the moral of most of the problems I encounter) comes into play.
Instead of feeling tawdry & sex-addicted (in Dreamland I wasn't in a relationship, so there wasn't Sam-related relationship guilt...thank god), the only emotion that flooded over me was the guilt of hurting my best friend's feelings & acting like an utter putz about it. I selfishly wasted her time & wandered off without informing her of my whereabouts. That's what killed me more than anything else.
"I totally lost track of time. I am so sorry, Michelle." It's the only line I could come up with. Not good enough. No sir. And why? Because I.felt.horrible for hurting her feelings.
The walk back to her car was the ultimate Walk of Shame. That feeling like everyone knows you blew Jonny Freshmen while he was drunk the night before & you couldn't leave his apartment in the middle of the night because you'd wake his Jewish fraternity roommate who would question your being there & the only lie you could give was something about borrowing a book when really no one has a clue you blow dudes at all? Yeah, that feeling. Only this time...every person I passed knew. They knew I lied to Michelle. They knew I was a time-wasting friend. They knew I was inconsiderate. And worst of all, they knew I blew Jonny.
Her arms were folded, like a curly-haired marm. Her head was jerking in every direction but my own, like a curly-haired owl. Her eyes were glossy, like a curly-haired...crying...person. I HAD MADE HER CRY? That was it: I was the worst person in the world. I could never face her again. Kill me now........!
I woke up.
I wept guilt-ridden tears for something I hadn't even done.
For real, I'll never canoodle that long ever again.