Loading ...Dreams of fine dining with Che, car troubles, and Friends you don’t see often…
For some reason, I slept poorly last night, the result being that I was awoken in the middle of a dream (which is a rarity). While the poor sleep experience was no fun, the important part was that I remembered a vivid dream I was having about me, Richard, and Che… and one of her friends (I assume). If only I could have slept a bit longer and continued my short but fun dream! So, here’s the short dream: Che invited me and Richard over for dinner. Her house was SO 70s chic with a (surely faux) polar bear rug and lots of earth tones. Very retro, but we figured Che was into the retro fashion and that was good enough. In dreams, you don’t need to make sense, just have a story. Being very eco-conscious, Che also kept all hte lights off in her house, save two candles on the dinner table, and the small fire in her fireplace. Being the 70s, her living room was sunken, obviously, while her dining area was on the raised area nearby. So, we could watch the fire lovingly, while enjoying Che’s culinary talents.
And what talents they were! Now, Che is known for many talents, not the least of which are her fabulous tits. Some readers may not be aware of her kitchen talents, but she is gifted there as well. Now, in the dream, she had prepared us some sort of braised beef dish with homemade gravy which was as smooth as silk. Her scalloped potatoes were buttery and divine, and the she rounded off the dish with her signature haricot verts sauteed with butter and garlic. For wine, we had a lovely deep Merlot. Three bottles of lovely deep Merlot. It was a good ol’ time of friends, food, and wine. For dessert, she made a lovely homemade pound cake with whipped cream and drizzled with some kind of liquor. I think it was a rum-cointreau mix. The entire meal was utterly divine. At that point, we decided we’d had enough of the meal and should go out on the town. Of course, one must clean up before leaving, and though we offered to help (despite the darkness), she refused. She had everything in order… so she called out her assistant to help.
We were a little surprised to see that she had summoned (which was totally reasonable to do in my dream) one of the Fey to help her. Yes, folks, Che had enough of the drudgery that is housework, and so summoned one of the Good Folk to do it for her. No Merry Maids for her; no tricking children into doing it; Che had to have a faerie. Now, you may be thinking of gossamer wings and flower petal hats, but Che is not one to summon a stereotypical faery. She summoned one that looked like a bored, angry yellow Care Bear. I kid you not. It was a small, yellow, fuzzy bear with a clenched jaw who could move and talk and work just like a human. He came in, cleaned up, all the while grumbling about it and muttering imprecations against Che. She told us to ignore him, and that he would be set free “once he repaid his debt to her.” I did not ask about the debt. We were stunned momentarily, but apparently accepted this scene as suitably normal. For Che.
Alas, on our way out the door, after our enjoyable dinner and easy clean up, we stepped into the yard to find that our car was no longer in the driveway. Someone had stolen it; but, in true dramatic fashion, it was more than mere theft. Someone had stolen our car right out from under our noses and replaced it with a smaller, older car which had been carefully “planted” as an impostor. It even beeped along with my remote button! Not only had someone stolen our car, they went to the trouble of replacing it with another car which looked similar and responded to our remote unlock. I was like “Oh my god, what can we do?”. In true Che fashion, she simply said “Meh. Easy come, easy go. Forget about it. Maybe we can all fit in the smaller car or just catch the bus.” Typical of our luck, my key didn’t actually work in the impostor car, so we had to wait for the bus.
Being a gracious host, Che didn’t want us to be bored while we waited, so she snapped her fingers to call the faerie to us. He had some significant trouble moving the sliding glass doors, but eventually waddled out to us, a grimace on his face that looked more raging bull than Care Bear. He was sort of a Hate Bear. Still, I guess he was free service. So, Che ordered him to return with a bottle of tequila, some margarita mix, and ice. That goddammed bus never did show up, and by midnight, we were utterly legless. No point in going in the house at this point… just hang out on the front porch steps, drinking and talking and musing on life… pissed out of our minds.
Just as I was musing about what we’d do next for fun, my alarm went off and the dream was well and truly over. Metaphor for life? Maybe. Lots of (unreal) fun? Definitely. Why is Che into 70s retro decor in my dream, and why did she summon a Care Bear faerie? We’re all wondering! Then again, it was just a dream. Or was it….?
Buy me a beer!
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Hate Bears! I love it. Quickly, get a patent and copyright.
Mojo waited nearly 10 months in between posts, but that was certainly worth the wait. I’d much rather have been in your dream than in my reality last night. I mean, Top Chef can’t compare to that.
Hmmmm. Maybe you heard me watching Top Chef and it got incorporated into your dream.
I’m going to see if I can summon some Hate Bears to do this presentation I’m working on.
Brilliant dream and post!
Aw, shucks. You found me out. I wait so long in between posts so you’ll all feel obligated to praise me so as to encourage more posting… My plan worked!
Hey that was worth the wait! Hate Bears! I love it so much I might just try a summoning.
Your dream also made me feel hungry. And a little lame. Alls I’m cookin’ tonight is a chicken casserole.
Not sure about that 70s decor though.
The car was obviously a faerie-changeling car.
Brilliant again! I say Huzzah to you and your long game of a plan. Only 10 months in the making.
I like that kind of commitment in a plot to receive praise.
Che, I just loved that you had a sunken living room. I just pictured you in a black halter top that ties in a big knot behind your neck and huge black and white polka dotted flairs that touch the ground and completely hide your feet.
And I also loved that Hate Bear.
If you are successful at the summoning, pass on the Hate.
Yeah. I read a lot of Patricia Highsmith. I know from end games.
Glad you guys liked it. I can’t take much credit for it, though, since my unconscious mind came up with it. I suspect, however, that my unconscious mind knows more than my conscious one.
I also wondered about the 70s decor. It could be because we recently watched Life on Mars and it is a lot of fun, even if it does have hideously ugly 70s decor.
I too woke up this morning very hungry for a real home-cooked meal! Even my subconscious is a gourmand.
I think we’d all like a Hate Bear. Once you get the summoning down, Che, please send a couple our way!
That’s great. Richard and I posted simultaneously and both wanted our own Hate Bears — after Che figures out a summoning! Dammit, we’re both lazy. Explains why we need a Hate Bear to clean up after us!
Oh, Richard, you aren’t fooling me. You’re just picturing Che as Servalan, admit it! Hmmm, maybe I was too. She was wearing nail polish, which should have made me suspicious now I think about it.
ROFL… When you said ‘Pass the Hate’ I pictured us sitting in a circle Smoking and handing over a particularly vicious joint: “It’s not weed man; it’s Hate. Pass it down.”.
I think I need more sleep…
I must admit, I was thinking of Che as Servalan. She even was standing with Servalan’s swayed posture that makes her seem both languid and alert all at once — as if she could destroy you if she wanted to, but it wouldn’t take much effort.
Languid Che, relaxing in her flairs, eating her braised beef (with liquor no less),and most importantly, accompanied by a Hate Bear!
yellow - the color of hate. who knew? yellow has a hell of a PR team, that’s all i can say.
i hope the poor, uncredited friend was me, because that sounds scrumptious. *drools* and then margaritas? heavenly!
personally, i’m blaming my second-hand vision of the decor on the recent ad for “swingtown”.
Yeah the unknown friend would almost have to be steff because there was pound cake. And margaritas. Thats a sure-fire steff-magnet.
Oddly enough, I’ve never associated yellow with cheer and happiness. I’ve always associated it with disease, puss, jaundice, plague. Pee. Bad beer.
So the yellow hate-bear is kind of fitting, really.
Mmmm. Pound cake dipped in margaritas.
I’ve always associated yellow with warnings as well. After all, it is the color of caution.
i am having margs right now in fact. no pound cake, but there is lindt chocolate.
Hmmmm… margarita pound cake. I’m interested. Anyone want to come up with a recipe for that one? Sound delicious. Lindt chockies optional.
We could even dye the margarita pound cake green so as to avoid the evil yellow color.
Mmm. Been a while since there were any recipes here.
Just posted one!