i had the scariest dream last night, guys. no, it wasn’t about never ever finding a job. it was about an even scarier new york event: getting accosted by a stranger while alone.
i’m generally pretty whatevs about most things, but i do get quite paranoid about being approached and/or raped and murdered by people while i’m walking alone, and especially walking alone at night. this dream happened to take place during the day, which i guess was slightly better than it could have been, but it definitely sucked.
basically, i had gone to a baseball game with a friend of mine, and while i was walking home, i realized that some guy on a bike was going eerily slow behind me, and had been for a while. so i turned around and he started talking to me! ugh. he started mumbling some stuff and i got freaked out (obvi) and took off running down the street.
now usually in dreams where i‘m forced to run, my legs totally turn into molasses and it looks like i’m auditioning for a baywatch beach-running scene. and that generally sucks, because i’m usually running for a scary reason. this time, though, that didn’t really happen. i was definitely running slower than i think i would be able to in real life (god willing), but i definitely wasn’t ultra-slow. strange.
anyway, i’m running and running, and despite his being on a bike, he’s not running me down or anything, just staying annoying close behind me. so i start running down the streets and then turning around and going down a different one to “throw him off” but it’s not working. finally, i see this little kid playing on the sidewalk (we’re in the suburbs, by the way), and i’m like “yes! an open door!” so i bust in there and start yelling. some asian guy in a towel comes out of the back room and i explain the situation best i can to him and ask to use his computer. his computer! he says sure, fine, but for some reason (weird) i’m not really getting anywhere on the computer.
the guy on the bike finally figures out where i am so i tell asian guy to grab his kid and lock the door, which he does. then the guy’s wife comes out and says look what she’s doing on HER computer. so i go into this other room and she’s mapquesting where we are. so she’s mapquesting her own house to see where it is. so i suggest google maps, obviously, because what she’s doing isn’t going that well. still nothing. she suggests telling my mother to come pick me up there, but i tell her that i don’t want bike guy knowing what she looks like or where i live. i finally realize that i should call the police when bike guy busts into the house and then the computer room where we are. and now he has a gun. of course. but he’s so disoriented and tired (he had been playing with the kid outside.) that he’s not really paying attention and i have the opportunity to dial 911 under the table while he’s rambling and being a crazy person. and then the cops come and take him away, no problem.
the next thing i know, a news reel is playing. not like i’m watching a tv with a news report on it, it’s all just blatantly like i’m there, first person. turns out this crazy bike guy was the catcher on the baseball team i had gone to watch with my friend. in his psycho, deranged mind, he thought i came to JUST SEE HIM, so when he saw me after the game he went a little nutso.
so, moral of the story: don’t wear a dress to a baseball game. it clouds boys’ judgments and makes it harder to run from them and their bad decisions.
