Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Inspecting Rob & Hillbilly Chokeout

Back story:
I started dating this lovely gentleman named Rob recently, and I talk about him all the time at everyone (blush) and the owner (in his 70's, his brother in his 80's and my
 parts manager 35 year old -Scorpio) all want to what they refer to as "interview" him. They love me like family and they want to see if he's all the things I've been telling them about.

Ok, here's my dream:

I'm at work. I'm behind the cashier counter, standing in between the two yellowing, early 90s computer monitors. Alyssa is to my left with her back facing the wall and Mike Leibold is leaning against the small glass display case facing me to my right.
I see just glimpses of Rob walking towards us from behind the Fox Eyewear display case. All four sides are transparent in reality, but now the back side (facing me) is a black and textured thin metal door (basically like the storage cabinet that sits just below the case.) The case, which normally has four shelves of sunglasses is empty.
Out of nowhere, my aunts Amber and Vanessa are standing in the t-shirt section. Rob has somehow teleported over to the corner where my hats are displayed neatly.
My aunts are kind of swarming him, my aunt Amber is the pushiest.
Rob is really pushed into the corner and I worry about him getting hurt by my slat wall pegs, but I keep letting them "inspect" him.
My mom is there suddenly and she's pushing between Amber and Vanessa and as she get's closer, I start listing off all of his attractive features. It's almost animalistic, the way they view his symmetry (and I assume for future, attractive, successful generations). I list off: Light eyes, Dark Hair, Good Skin, Good Build, Tall, Muscular and Masculine jawline  and straight teeth  (just to name a few). My mom tells him to show her his teeth just to make sure.

Time Travel

I'm behind the counter again and Mike says to me, "So that's you're new husband, eh?" I smile slightly, a little embarrassed. "We're going to check his credit and do a background check."
I get a panicked feeling in my stomach and (I'm not sure exactly what I said, but it was along the lines of, "No, trust me, he's good."
I still feel uneasy thinking about the possibility of them checking in the future.
Then Rob says, "you can only run a background check if you have the person's Social Security Number."

His standing just out of my view again, shielded by the Fox display case. I can't see his facial expressions but he sounds firm, but not overly aggressive.

Time Travel

I'm leading Rob back through my department and I'm telling him about what I do: buy and sell apparel and accessories.
As we walk, he sees something to his left and breaks away from being beside me and walks behind the luggage display. I watch him briefly, wondering exactly what could have caught a non-bike rider's eye.
I turn and continue walking towards the parts counter and there is a kid (probably 17-22) walking slowly, almost zombie-like. His eyes are intensely fixed on me.
He walks directly  into my path. I casually continue to keep my even pace, moving to my right as to not collide.
I look to my left and I can see Rob by the bike locks. His body coming in and out of view.
The kid is right in front of me  now. His white, stained tee shirt has a yellow stain just above his collarbone to my left (his right) and there are cigarette burns at the bottom right hem line.
He walks right up to me and puffs up his chest so it's touching my chin.
He asks me if I'll go have coffee with him sometime. The way he asks is studdery and the words are hard for me to understand.
I say something mean (not sure what) and he gets pissed.
He moves towards me, aggressively and I push against his chest. I can feel the grit on the surface and the moist heat of his sweat beneath the stained white cotton.
He says something to the effect of, "don't fucking touch me" and I tell him to back off or I'll hit him. He stares me directly in the face and stands his ground, not looking intimidated in the least.
I pull my right hand up and slap his cheek in a kind of half-ass strike. Just enough to make my palm sting a little.
He immediately grabs my throat with his right hand and squeezes so hard I can feel the tendons on the left side of my neck being plucked by his solid grip.
I reach for him, I stretch my right hand as far as I can and I don't even come close to making contact. I am frozen, unable to escape, and all I can do is grasp at the air separating us.

Then I woke up.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Chair 2 at Mt. Baker and Dangerous Hot Springs

I'm riding up the hill on Chair 2. The chairlift is very old and creaks and shakes like it may snap any second. Austin is with me. He's just behind me on the lift. It's only a two-chair so it's super cramped if you try to squeeze so if it's not too busy, it's a lot more comfortable to take separate seats.
I'm looking at him behind me and we're laughing and teasing each other I'm so happy. Just being silly.

Time Travel

I'm in a white truck with a tan vinyl interior. It's a newer model, reminds me of Cam's truck (mentioned in "Cam's Truck, Sue's Parking & Austin's Wet Shirt" dream).

I'm driving. It's dry and dusty and reminds me of Sun Lakes, WA (where we have our family reunions every year). I'm driving on a sand colored road with no shoulder. There is a small fork and I stay to the right. I travel down a slight decline and I look out the passenger window and see hot springs. They are so vibrantly colored; jade blue centers with crusted edges of terra cotta red.

Then I wake up.

On I-5 North with Matt and Joey & Big Dave Teleports into Van

I'm in a van, one of those big "seats up to 13" vans.
Joey is sitting to my right and I'm facing the sliding side door on the passenger side. I am not buckled up.

We're driving (I don't know exactly who is driving, I know it's a man, though. I can't see around the driver's seat to get a good look, but I can see little thin sprouts of blond, scraggly hairs pointing in all directions and being back-lit by the setting sun to the West. His hair is almost strawberry blond, but the sun is making it glow almost a white-yellow peeking just above the headrest.
My boss, Matt Sterrett is sitting in the passenger seat. Not including himself in the conversations happening behind him, just staring blankly ahead.

I hear the loud, distinctive roar of a Harley coming closer. The throaty, low and wet rumble shaking the air against the van.
There are three men beginning to pass us on the lane directly to the right of us. Big Dave is leading the small pack, wearing his deep, almost blood-red cotton t-shirt with black H-D script across the chest (he came to my store a few days ago and was wearing the same shirt). He's riding a full sized Harley (an older model, like early 90's) in a bright, burnt pumpkin orange bagger. The top box is angular as opposed to the more rounded and flowing designs of today.

I look out the side window and point while simultaneously yelling (a little too excited). "It's Big Dave!!"

Time Travel

Big Dave is sitting in the van with us now. It's as if he teleported in. We are still on the highway and the evergreens along the shoulder are a dark, sometimes prickly blur.
He's sitting on the bench seat behind me and I'm turning even further to my right to talk to him directly.
After I scream (while Big D was will on his bike) Matt goes from being absolutely silent to turning sharply towards me and says, "Shut up!!!"
I giggle, like always when we play around at work.

When he turns around, I observe a little spot of light reflecting off his right ear. "You have your ear pierced! Ya, queer:"

Then I wake up.

Monday, January 2, 2012

I Can Carry More Garbage than Everyone!!

I'm at work. I'm sitting on a quad (or something) facing the front door. It's an obviously daytime: there is a grey sky visible through the windows on the east side of the building, but it's dark in the store (like every morning before we turn all the showroom lights on).

Debbie is (maybe sitting on a bike, or something...)  to my right and Matt is to my left, sitting on a cruiser. He's holding a square shaped clipboard (as opposed to the standard 8x11).
He looks a little stressed,  totally unlike his usual easy-going expressions.
He starts talking very quietly, just above a whisper, as if he doesn't want some people to hear what he's saying.
He explains how now that it's slow at the store, we're all being watched very closely to make sure we're being productive and earning our paychecks.

He points out a trash can behind me leaning against the wall. It's overflowing and there is a huge amount of garbage (mostly wadded up sheets of paper, and one banana peel...a yellow one, only slightly browning in small patches) laying around it.It looks kind of like someone deliberately dumped it out halfway.
Matt starts talking again and points out that Debbie repainted all the walls in the showroom.
I look behind me and there is a brand new layer of soft gray paint masking all the nicks and scratches that had been letting the white drywall peek through.
The next thing i know, the entire staff is moving quickly in between all the bikes picking things up frantically.
I look at matt and he's staring at me like, 'what are you waiting for?'
I realize he's expecting me to 'earn my keep' and pick up some garbage (which i notice now is not only behind me falling out of the trashcan, but is also strewn all over the floor and on the bikes.)

I turn quickly and almost fall backwards off the bike trying to get to the garbage bin.
Chase runs towards me from my left and kind of "homerun slides" almost hitting me.
I'm on my knees grabbing and stuffing and I turn around and everyone is carrying large amounts of garbage in their arms. Not putting them in bins or anything.
I have a weird thought that maybe they want to see how much we can carry compared to each other. I see that Trina is carrying a lot compared to her small stature. I think to myself  "I  have to at least carry more than her."
I start taking garbage out of the trashcan and stuffing it under my left arm until my elbow starts straining.

Then I woke up.