Talking loudly about your dreams in public is a dangerous game—it’s the reason Joseph’s brothers threw him down a well in The Bible. Admittedly, Joseph had the last laugh, but after a recent bus journey blighted by the recollected nocturnal fantasies of the two Technicolor visionaries behind me, my sympathies are with the brothers all the way.
Man #1: [generic but irksome U.S accent – very similar to the man who tries to order Pernod throughout the Velvet Underground's Live at Max’s Kansas City LP, if you’re into specifics] “I had a dream where I was trying on glasses, and I watched myself, but the arms were always too short. The arms of the spectacles, you know? Not my arms. I have the strangest dreams." Man #2: [sat on the opposite side of the aisle, more sonorous than his companion] “I had bad dreams too. Epic. Ants were like, carrying all our shit away…” Man #1: “I had one where you see people you haven’t seen for like, five years or more, and they all come up and they all have something terrible to say.” Man #2: [casting his mind back to what had taken place before he lost consciousness] “Martha went crazy. I never saw anybody do that on weed before. When did you leave?” Man #1: “Like, 2AM. Steve called when we were in the middle of like, doing it. Her sheets were satin and the comforter was satin, you’re just slipping everywhere. I hate that shit. it’s greasy. I’d told him he could stay at mine. So I had to take the call.” Man #2: “How did that go down?” Man #1: [standing up to get off] “Sometimes in life you have to take the curveball not the fastball.” This was a piece of parting wisdom in no way diminished by the fact that as he walked away I could see he was wearing leopard print Uggs. Not at all.
Illustration by Johnny Ryan Previously: Michael Holden's Deleted Scenes - Eamonn Holmes Stamping on a Human Face Forever