Thursday, August 10, 2017

Recollections of an Incredibly Complex Dream

I just had one heck of an oddball dream.  It was vivid, complex, long, and I can't figure out how it ties into anything in reality. I'm retelling it in current tense.

Part I -- The Library + Store


The dream starts off at some strange store where there's a library on one end and a regular store at the opposite end. At the library end, there are all these pristine condition VHS tapes of movies, most of them are in blue boxes. Some guy I'm friends with points out that there are some DVDs. I can't see his face exactly, but he's white with brown hair with a beard.

Upon closer inspection, those are X-rated DVDs stashed at the left end of a middle shelf, adjacent to the VHS tapes. None seem interesting, but as I pore through the collection that is arranged as though they're overstuffed on a store shelf, I wonder to myself, why are X-rated DVDs in a library?

Part II -- A Friend + His Wife


There was nothing in the library worth checking out, so my friend and I walk over to the store side. He goes over to see his wife who is working at the store, while I wander around. We eventually meet in the sporting section as I briefly peruse the fishing rods, but knowing that I already have a rod, I just run my hands through them for fun.

Talking to my friend, he tells me that his wife has to work for another hour and that I should go on ahead, catching up later. I agree and start to shop the store in earnest, filling up my basket with some items, including 8 folders.


Part III -- The Checkout


Walking to the checkout lines, I see one near the exit that is just emptying out so I jump to get into that line. As I dump all of my stuff onto the checkout belt, instead of entering each individual item into the register, he starts to -- incorrectly -- add up the cost of the folders in his head. Instead of 8 items at $1.45 each for a total of $11.60, he starts from $1.45 and starts totaling it to $2.45 all the way to $8.45. I consider correcting his math but realize that he'll never understand my explanation and it'll just confuse him further.

Just as he's about to hand my change back, his supervisor pulls him. She's upset at his constant errors as she walks him away. Now, there's no one to complete the checkout. A couple of minutes go by and the line behind me has grown to a couple other folks so I stand on the checkout counter -- at 16" high, it's about the height of a baggage claim aisle -- to put my hands up looking at the supervisor. She sees me and realizes her error and comes back to fill the void she left. She's only nominally better at the job than the guy she pulled. After rechecking out, I am getting ready to pay -- again -- pulling out my bills, which at this point were folded in origami style into small squares. I look back and there's a woman with a young boy, waiting. Turning back, this guy comes out of nowhere, interrupting the cashier, trying to purchase a green-colored gift card.

Part IV -- The Con Job


Thoroughly confused, the cashier is starting to get my transaction confused with this guy's gift card. He's paid for the gift card but the cashier is standing there trying to straighten out her mix up. That's when the woman behind me starts walking out the store without her stuff. In her hand I notice that she's got this guy's cash card. I try to stop her by yelling for her to stop, but she gets away.

The guy whose cash card is freshly stolen pats me on the shoulder and side and tells me not to worry, that he'll catch her. He gives chase and catches up to her as she's sitting in her van. I give chase, too, and am standing outside at the front of her van as he's inside the van demanding that she give up the cash card. She does. He hands it back to me.

I don't quite understand why he's handing back his cash card, so I flip it to the back and see that it's my card with my signature on the back.

The van is pulling out, at which point I realize that he stole my wallet while he was patting me on the shoulder and side, earlier. I can sort of see the license plate but in the rush of different emotions, I fail to memorize the plate numbers. They're not pulling away very quickly, and I'm able to give chase, running in the same direction as my vehicle. I pull out my keys, ready to jump into my vehicle and pursue.

That's where the dream ends and I get up.

Crazy and complex, right? Wait, there's more.

Part V -- Post Dream


Upon waking up and fully dissatisfied with the state of affairs, I get up, pull out my imaginary concealed gun and shoot 9x into the back of the van. It's the one and only time I wish I had an imaginary gun and concealed weapons permit in a dream. Knowing full well that it would be illegal to fire a gun at a fleeing vehicle in an urban area, it's a requisite finish to an unsettling dream sequence. Being so odd and complex, I just had to sit down here and document all of it.

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