Posted by: normanlgreen | August 7, 2011

Dream, August 7, 2011


Dream, home 6:10 am

Gigi has written a book. It has been published, and the release party is being held on the second floor of an old school house. The light is artificial, but of a warm yellow tone. Many have come to get a signed copy of the book. Her fans crowd her at a slate topped lab table. Unfortunately, no one thought to bring a pen. I find a black marker in one desk. She tries to write with it, but the point is too dull. I have a black gel ink pen, but she can’t get it to write with any consistency. I hand her a blue chisel point calligraphy pen – though it does not write smoothly, she resolves to use it.

I leave to order some food for myself and for another friend.  Some entrepreneurial women in white lunch-lady outfits have set up a fish and chips shop down the hall. While we walk toward the improvised restaurant, the woman I walk with is stopped by a friend of hers whom she has not seen in years. This man gives her a passionate kiss. I am offended as my friend is married, and I am also friends with her husband. I ask them to stop, then leave them to see what is on the menu. Inside another classroom, in the steamy area behind the counter, there are wire baskets of fried fish and chicken and foot-long king crab legs. I return to the hall to give my report and get my friend’s order. Now the hallway has transformed into a dim street, and there is a car parked at the door. My friend and her old boyfriend are necking in the backseat with their feet hanging out over the sidewalk. I tap the guy on the shoulder. They both stand up. She is flushed and says “bad girl – bad girl” but does not hide her smile as she looks off soft-eyed into the distance.  I tell her to go look at the menu for herself. Once alone, I slap the pasty right cheek of the man. “You ought to see and understand,” he says. I answer, “I did. Twice.” and slap him a second time on the same cheek. I wonder why I use my left hand for this.

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