Started outside of Manteca Water Slides, a rundown water park that I used to frequent in the middle of nowhere that no longer exists. But it did in my dream, and that's all that matters. In fact it was reincarnated as the country club of all water parks. Just picture the coolest water park you've ever seen in a film and cross-breed it with the Coronado Hotel in San Diego (a kickback, classic resort reminiscent of the Sinatra years) and you have the water park I was slippin' and slidin' at. Anyway, it started with Cassie and I sitting outside waiting for the rest of the group (we were apparently a part of some family field trip with family I had never seen before - probably a family reunion). After a moment an old coworker from the GAP I used to work at came over and started hitting on her, which was weird because he's gay, not that there's anything wrong with that (Seinfeld reference). From there my mind shifted me within the water park with an inner tube and some other flotation device. I found it odd that they would give me two as I would probably lose one, which is what happened on the first slide I slid down. Plagued by the thought of any convenience charges that might occur due to my negligence with the lost flotation device I suddenly noticed that Cassie was nowhere to be found. Panicked, I ran to the check-in desk screaming her name. Surprisingly, my mother was behind the desk ready to assist. She acknowledged by a slight head nod the people behind me. Turning, I discovered it was my ex-girlfriend and her recently obtained husband; not the person I was looking for. Being the asshole of a human people always make me to be, I quickly turned and jetted back to the water area, finding Cassie right where I left her; funny how that happens in the dream world, oh the convenience of the mind. After a few more tube floats I began to feel the Catholic guilt that is so deeply attached to my soul. I should go apologize and then congratulate my ex-girlfriend and her husband, said I. Running through the red-carpeted hallways in just my swim trunks I finally found her. Rightfully so, she did not want to speak to me. After convincing her husband, who was now foreign and couldn't speak a lick of English, and turning on some of the old world charm, I convinced her to let me treat to a drink (of course I had no wallet or any idea of where the bar was, but I got her out the door).
Once outside, I felt at ease. Here we are, in my court now, amongst the screaming children with mustard stained mouths and bloodshot, chlorine filled eyes. Walking around with her seemed odd; I had not seen her in some time, and things had changed. I was in a successful relationship, my self-loathing had diminished. I didn't know what to say. Should I open with a joke? Tell her congratulations? Apologize? Knowing myself, and since it was a dream, I did none of the above. Instead, I watched her eat fish and chips from a discarded lunch tray left on a white, plastic table. Peculiar indeed. After a moment, I saw the owner of the fish and chips barreling our way. By his body language I could tell he wasn't finished with said entree. He also had a handful of apricots and was eating them one by one, spitting out the pits periodically. Looking for an escape route I grabbed the ex and moved in the opposite direction. We were now in a grassy field and close behind was the fish and chip owner and another man trailing us quite closely in an apricot canning truck. Apparently they were in the business though I couldn't confirm this thought. After a Michael Bayesque car and foot chase sequence I was on the ground wrestling with the apricot man. None of his blows to my stomach caused any discomfort. However, I was innately aware of the sticky apricot juice all over him, which was now subsequently all over me. The ex was nowhere to be found and this is when I woke up.
This dream may sound tame and not weird enough to warrant a blog post but when I sat up it felt as though I had been pummeled with a ton of bricks just like Marv from Home Alone 2, the poor sap.
Such dreams can often be traced to events that have happened in recent days; this one could not. I haven't spoken to my ex in quite awhile.
And I don't even like apricots.
