Saturday, December 10, 2005

B.M. had shaved his head. He was talking about something in current events, which is funny because he never talks about that. Something about U.S. foreign policy or something, some incident that was noteworthy but out of date by a couple of weeks. Then we were watching the news on TV, others were there. Suddenly the news showed footage of some outdoor party we'd been to. You could see us in the scene, lolling on the grass near a tree, surrounded by other guests.

Then I was in the lobby of a theater. There was some special performance that night, some play or opera or something. People were dressed fancy. I felt self-conscious in my green T-shirt. Interestingly, it was the same T-shirt that I'd worn that day – yesterday, that is – in real life. In that way the dream reality was a direct extension of waking reality. M.B. approached in some kind of tuxedo. He looked strangely effeminate, effete. He was double-fisting a white Russian and a scotch on the rocks. "White Russian and scotch?" I asked him incredulously. He nodded in a glum way. Then I was waiting to get into the theater. In another auditorium in the same building a rock band was going to play. It was some highly anticipated reunion of a legendary indie rock band. The line I was in wound by their dressing room. The band emerged, costumed and made up, to a great commotion of security guards, hangers on and curious fans. I tried to imagine what band they were but I had no idea. There were a couple of women and a couple of men in it. The line slowed to a halt from a bottleneck at the turnstile. I looked around me for diversion. The bar had some kind of wonderful contraption that automatically poured big plastic cups of scotch and water and smaller cups of scotch on the rocks. I was mesmerized by it for a while then realized there was no one ahead of me in line and I was holding people up. I looked behind me and my dad was there, looking a little quizzical. I went in and was relieved to see people still milling about their seats, the performance not yet having begun.