Last night I dreamed.
I dreamed the wife and I were walking up a road in a mountain town holding armloads of flyers for some event. There was some big festival going on- Bluegrass or something. I was pushing the Big Dummy, and set it down on a lawn as we stopped to post a few of these flyers. As it was a dream, I did a thing I'd never do in real life- I walked away from the bike and forgot it. Even in dreams, though, I do like the bicycles and very quickly realized the error.
When I turned around, some bike thief was getting on the bike and clumsily turning around for a get away. I began to run after, yelling "Stop!" I ran in slow motion. He was getting away, through the crowds of festival goers. I yelled again, "Stop that long bike!" But he absconded. I ran too slow.
I asked the group lounging on the lawn if I could borrow a bike to give chase and a gal obliged. It was a burning man special- all trashed and loaded up with dirty accoutrements. I chased, and I rode in slow motion. Eventually, I was hiking the bike down a cliff-side singletrack. It was the next morning and I was still looking. I saw the thief below me, giving joyrides to his degenerate friends in the camping area. I made my way through several confused obstacles down to the field. I wandered the rows of campers and autos and I considered what to do with the POS loaner which now had a front flat; the tyre hanging off the rim. I knew I couldn't leave it and it was incredibly frustrating.
Then I woke up mad. I tried to go back to sleep so's I could catch that thief and give him a beating, but to no avail.
I dreamed the wife and I were walking up a road in a mountain town holding armloads of flyers for some event. There was some big festival going on- Bluegrass or something. I was pushing the Big Dummy, and set it down on a lawn as we stopped to post a few of these flyers. As it was a dream, I did a thing I'd never do in real life- I walked away from the bike and forgot it. Even in dreams, though, I do like the bicycles and very quickly realized the error.
When I turned around, some bike thief was getting on the bike and clumsily turning around for a get away. I began to run after, yelling "Stop!" I ran in slow motion. He was getting away, through the crowds of festival goers. I yelled again, "Stop that long bike!" But he absconded. I ran too slow.
I asked the group lounging on the lawn if I could borrow a bike to give chase and a gal obliged. It was a burning man special- all trashed and loaded up with dirty accoutrements. I chased, and I rode in slow motion. Eventually, I was hiking the bike down a cliff-side singletrack. It was the next morning and I was still looking. I saw the thief below me, giving joyrides to his degenerate friends in the camping area. I made my way through several confused obstacles down to the field. I wandered the rows of campers and autos and I considered what to do with the POS loaner which now had a front flat; the tyre hanging off the rim. I knew I couldn't leave it and it was incredibly frustrating.
Then I woke up mad. I tried to go back to sleep so's I could catch that thief and give him a beating, but to no avail.
1 comment:
My bikes dreams usually involve me doing wheelies like a boss and then I wake up to a wheelie-less reality.
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