Win some, lose a lot
Dreams full of sorrow and strife. Sigh.
I dreamt I was at a concert. A friend had suggested it -- she loved the artist. As I saw him come up on stage I realized I vaguely recognized him as a skilled musician, and settled in to enjoy. He was starting out with what my friend called the "wildest" track of his new album, but when he started, it was barely audible. I managed to catch his eye and point to my ear, shaking my head. He stopped to confer with the person in charge of amplification, and there were a couple more attempts before it was all sorted. (The importance of sound check!) Then he started playing some jazz piano that was sort of a blend of big-band and ragtime. It was good.
After the concert, I was watching from the eyes of the friend who had suggested the concert -- we were walking along a deserted street with a vine-covered wall to the left, and former-me had spotted someone familiar. Former-me sped up, trying to catch him, but friend-me knew that this was a setup, that I had suggested the concert so that the familiar man could catch former-me's attention and play courting games, so friend-me drifted across the street to get out of the way.
But there was a wrinkle: the musician had taken an interest in former-me, and kept catching former-me's arm and trying to get her to focus on him. He was very attractive, and his skin was the color of caramel and soft when I touched his arm. He wanted me, but I left, reluctantly, to catch the coy acquaintance. Whom I didn't catch. I regretted the choice bitterly when the musician was murdered later that night. Friends took me to visit that same street months later, and I was finally able to cry.
****
I was sitting in a lecture hall, waiting for one of a series of speakers on Apartheid and the structures of a post-Apartheid society (maybe I was in South Africa). I had a mug of tea, as they had refreshments available at the front. I heard someone behind me and to the left say "Don't let that THING overbrew your tea!" I looked around, but couldn't spot either the speaker or whom he might be referring to; I'm used to that epithet being applied to trans women, and I didn't see any. I quietly asked my neighbor what the man might be referring to, and they pointed to my nearer left, where a black man was working at a table, tending the tea service. My reaction was sort of "...aw, man."
I twisted around and called back "Really? REALLY? You're going to spout racist insults here?" I made sure I was clearly audible when I muttered as I turned around, "Racist assholes all over the fuckin' place."
The guy doubled down by saying back to me, "See, I had to work with that thing--" and I cut him off. "By 'thing', do you mean what's currently taking up the space where your brain should be? Because that ain't working." I took a sip of my tea. He shut up.
Sometimes I'm way wittier in dreams.
I have an account as Torquill on Dreamwidth, and that's where I posted this. You can sign in with OpenID to comment on the original post, or you can go ahead and comment here; either way works.
I dreamt I was at a concert. A friend had suggested it -- she loved the artist. As I saw him come up on stage I realized I vaguely recognized him as a skilled musician, and settled in to enjoy. He was starting out with what my friend called the "wildest" track of his new album, but when he started, it was barely audible. I managed to catch his eye and point to my ear, shaking my head. He stopped to confer with the person in charge of amplification, and there were a couple more attempts before it was all sorted. (The importance of sound check!) Then he started playing some jazz piano that was sort of a blend of big-band and ragtime. It was good.
After the concert, I was watching from the eyes of the friend who had suggested the concert -- we were walking along a deserted street with a vine-covered wall to the left, and former-me had spotted someone familiar. Former-me sped up, trying to catch him, but friend-me knew that this was a setup, that I had suggested the concert so that the familiar man could catch former-me's attention and play courting games, so friend-me drifted across the street to get out of the way.
But there was a wrinkle: the musician had taken an interest in former-me, and kept catching former-me's arm and trying to get her to focus on him. He was very attractive, and his skin was the color of caramel and soft when I touched his arm. He wanted me, but I left, reluctantly, to catch the coy acquaintance. Whom I didn't catch. I regretted the choice bitterly when the musician was murdered later that night. Friends took me to visit that same street months later, and I was finally able to cry.
****
I was sitting in a lecture hall, waiting for one of a series of speakers on Apartheid and the structures of a post-Apartheid society (maybe I was in South Africa). I had a mug of tea, as they had refreshments available at the front. I heard someone behind me and to the left say "Don't let that THING overbrew your tea!" I looked around, but couldn't spot either the speaker or whom he might be referring to; I'm used to that epithet being applied to trans women, and I didn't see any. I quietly asked my neighbor what the man might be referring to, and they pointed to my nearer left, where a black man was working at a table, tending the tea service. My reaction was sort of "...aw, man."
I twisted around and called back "Really? REALLY? You're going to spout racist insults here?" I made sure I was clearly audible when I muttered as I turned around, "Racist assholes all over the fuckin' place."
The guy doubled down by saying back to me, "See, I had to work with that thing--" and I cut him off. "By 'thing', do you mean what's currently taking up the space where your brain should be? Because that ain't working." I took a sip of my tea. He shut up.
Sometimes I'm way wittier in dreams.
I have an account as Torquill on Dreamwidth, and that's where I posted this. You can sign in with OpenID to comment on the original post, or you can go ahead and comment here; either way works.