A Living Magazine - Day 189 - Homecoming - Old Significant Other Dreams

It was another ex-girlfriend dream. As a I mentioned some posts ago, I sometimes have dreams about one of three past loves. This time it was A.L. again...

* * * * * * *

We were driving around some city doing errands. I don't recall ever being in this city, but seemed to know it really well at the time. I kept forgetting things. My short term memory was shot; the kind of thing that happens during a bad LSD trip. And, it seemed to both of us that this was something I periodically was going through. So strange how the dream world can pick up and leave off from alternate timelines. Maybe there is something to the many worlds theory of physics? We were both the ages we would be now, but in the waking world we had parted twenty years ago.

She kept driving from place to place; the grocery store, the library, the laundromat, etc. And, every time she saw a hitchhiker (for some reason there were a lot of them), she stopped and picked him up. We carted around a bunch of lost souls. They were often mentally disabled or strung out on "something". I felt a bit jealous that these guys were taking precedence over me in this fragile memory state of mine.

At some point, we stopped at a little diner with one of these guys, and she offered (with my credit card) to buy him lunch. We sat in the booth with a very awkward silence going on. She had to use the little girl's room and left the table. This guy and I just sat staring at each other for a few minutes while we consumed our cheeseburgers and fries. He was a good looking lad, long dark hair, a minimal beard and really dialated pupils in his dark brown eyes. I felt old and gray (which, compared to him, I was). Finally, I asked if he was "from around here". He just shook his head, saying nothing.

I had a memory lapse at that very point and then had to reconstruct the day's activities. He stopped chewing for a moment and peered at me with a furrowed brow, seeming to know that I was on the fritz. All I could think about, as I brought myself back into the present moment, was that he wanted to sleep with my girlfriend--who was much older than he--though A.L. always was a young and pretty looking woman anyway. She returned and turned on the charm, perhaps sensing this lust of his, while perhaps jabbing me. I have these insecure thoughts about her, because of the mistrust I developed with her in the real waking world. At least that is my interpretation.

When we were done and the $30 or so was taken out of MY account, we three left and continued to his drop off point. Can't remember where it was--maybe under an overpass somewhere. We heard singing outside the car. I guess it was the holiday season? The most sublime female voice I think I've ever heard, came wafting around the alleyways and abandoned warehouses in the area. I was gaining more of my sensibilities by that point, and was growing tired of this game A.L. was playing.

Because of a one-way street, we were forced to drive by the singing, and it grew louder as we approached. I told A.L. to pull over. She rolled her eyes, and complied. I knew good singing when I heard it. And - apparently in this dream world - I was still a music producer (as I had been before leaving Maine in the waking world).

I heard the voice of an angelic young woman, maybe half my age. It was strong, yet emotional and soulfully tragic, as if she could sing while she was crying. I was intrigued. I told A.L. to wait in the car while I investigated this beautiful singer.

And she WAS...beautiful. But even more interesting to me, her voice was rounded, rich, but yet dynamic--soft and then loud again as if channeling the sheet music she read from, in an almost supernatural way. I loved A.L. - in the dream - but it was my chance to turn the screw after an afternoon of making me jealous.

When the young woman completed her acapella performance, I walked up to her and introduced myself. She blushed as if she'd heard of me, and our eyes met. Unbelievable to me, she was the woman from another dream--the one who was presumably the mother of my future children, one of whom knocked me out of a lucid dream, by saying "Daddy?". Again, as with the previous dream, I couldn't really see this woman's face; only her heavenly blue-green eyes.

When I went to extend my hand in greeting, I felt A.L. grab my shoulder. She had run over from the car. "We have to get going!" A.L. said, dripping with green jealousy. I turned and looked at her, and she shrank back... Then, I watched as her face became widened, and she grew a greyish beard, losing her red hair... She looked like ME!

* * * * * * *

I awoke with a start! I sat sat up and realized I was in my tent. What did all of this mean? It was still dark out. And, checking my watch, I saw it was 6:28 am. Obviously, there had been a rain overnight. The inside of the tarp/fly had large drops, occasionally running down to drip on the ground. I sighed, and dropped directly back down to my makeshift pillow. My ponytail jabbed into the back of my head. Ouch!

Reaching for my pen LED flashlight, I withdrew it from the side pocket of the tent--where all of the stuff from my pants was stored each night. Holding it up to shine around the inside of the tent, I saw that no major leaks had formed. This was a good thing. I knew now that, unless there was sustained pouring rain, the tent tarp/fly worked pretty well on its own--having forgotten to add the little blue tarp on top.

I was no longer very tired, and wondered how I could pass the time before getting up and going to Starbucks. So, I decided to read more of my ebook (The Brotherhood of the Screaming Abyss). I was nearing the last few chapters. And, being able to finish it would be nice. I read until about 9:30 am, finishing the book.

The story of the last days of Terence McKenna (my social philosopher-hero), as told by his brother Dennis (my new hero), were heart wrenching. Terence died from brain cancer in 2000. And, I sobbed at the account of his passing. The majesty of Dennis' recounting, along with my utter love and fascination with Terence could bring about no other reaction. I honestly had to wait until my eyes were shorn of their bloodshot state before putting on my hiking shoes and performing the day's pack up.

I decided not to disassemble the tent. I would probably need it for one more night. I'd saved up nearly $120 dollars for a room, if I was able to get one (maybe for two nights? at $60 per night). But the better days would be Monday and Tuesday, since Monday was supposed to be an even heavier rain than I had yet faced--hard to believe.

When all had been secured at the campsite, I made my way to Starbucks to work for the day, which I did. My new friend and manager of the store, Tammy, wasn't there, but she must have given my cards out, because - though no other employees engaged me in conversation - they treated me like royalty.

I assume she must have made a very significant plea that they not judge a person by his appearance. I'd told her how difficult and prejudicial it had been in other cities and towns; with my backpack and overgrown beard, to be respected. For example, sometimes I would get to a Starbucks and listen to each person ahead of me be treated with great dignity, only to approach the counter myself, and have the cashier say, "Yeah, what do YOU want?" She would not tolerate such disrespect from her crew.

I had earned a Starbucks free drink. And so, one of my favorite guys - I think his name is Eli? - took my order. And, though I screwed it up and asked for a caramel cappuccino, when what I wanted was a caramel frappuccino, the girl at the mixing station would not accept my plea to take what I'd actually and accidentally ordered, but instead insisted upon giving me what I really wanted, I knew something was afoot.

These folks had learned from their wise manager that a loyal customer (I'd been in there fourteen days in a row) was more important that a single drink. And, they graciously and without a second thought, made SURE that I was happy--homeless or not.

I won't forget this, and I hope Tammy has a chance to read about it. America is NOT without its retail heroes. Starbucks is a great company, because they understand the overriding logic that a happy customer is a customer for LIFE.

I sucked down my delicious caramel frappuccino while I wrote out the day's blog post. The rain was gathering up again (for godsakes!), and I departed some six hours after making my order, forgetting to take my AC adapter.

I walked down to Burger King and bought the usual chicken sandwich, then realized my oversight with the adapter. Finishing that meal, I made it a priority to get back to Starbucks and retrieve my precious item.

I walked into the quiet store at about 7:30 pm and found my adapter plugged in right where I'd left it. Then, it was off to the campsite, where I hunkered down for another night of rain.

It wasn't raining when I arrived there, and despite the big drops on the inside of that tarp/fly, and the residual moisture on the large blue tarp on the tent floor--which I dabbed up with napkins, things were relatively dry.

I crawled inside, removed the sleeping bag from Saggy, which had remained damp and rather stinky at that point, then proceeded to lie down on top of it, falling asleep by about 9:30 pm
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