I had a strange dream last night about chauffeuring three Highland Park High School football players and their dates to the prom. This scenario was rife with problems.
Minor problems:
- One of the girls was standoffish all night because, she claimed, I once kicked her while reporting a story.
- My bow tie was too tight, there was a hole in my tuxedo shirt, and my cap was too small.
- I was wearing a cap with a tuxedo.
Major problems:
- I was trying to chauffeur three football players and their dates in my actual car, a 2002 Jetta station wagon with more than 100,000 miles on the odometer.
- The valets at Dallas Country Club disassembled said car, which led to a fistfight.
- I found myself chatting with three preteen boys outside the country club, where one of them made a derogatory joke about Jews. My response: “Yeah, you know, that reminds me of something that happened at my bar mitzvah.”
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This was one of those nightmares that was so long and vivid that I woke up genuinely bothered, as if all of these absurd things actually happened. Please provide your armchair analysis.
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