Okay, I just had the weirdest dream last night. Not weird in the sense that I was having a tea party with rabid goblins, but more weird in that I thought it was so real that I started to panic.

I was at home and I’d watched everything on my computer and I was feeling a bit bored, so I decided to go for a drive (it’s not uncommon). Although, on my travels I noticed signs to the airport and I decided to go take a look-see.

For some reason, when I arrived there I ended up playing the role of Shawn in the TV series Psych. If you’ve not seen it, it’s about the son of a cop who’s been trained by his father all throughout his life to notice the smallest of details. As an adult, he pretends to be a psychic to get out of being arrested and goes on to liase with the police. Instead of being really psychic, he just uses his powers of memory and deduction to solve crimes - and one of the police officers pretty much hates his guts.

The cop that hates me suddenly showed up there as he was taking a flight on police business and hated the fact that I was there too. I started joking around with him, just to piss him off.

Then he disappears and I’m back to being myself. I started looking around and then randomly decided that it might be cool to book a flight to the states. I looked around and found one. There were two lines - one was full and one was empty, so I went in the empty one. It turned out that that was first class. I almost went through, but then asked what the price difference was between the two. The guy at the rope letting people through told me it was about £99 difference - at which point I decided I’d go queue up in the coach line.

I waited. And waited. And when I got to the end of the queue I asked for a ticket. Whilst it was being processed, I was charged £1,389 for a return flight.

Now, bare in mind that I don’t really have that much cash. Upon hearing how expensive it was, normally I’d say “no way” but for some reason on this occasion I didn’t. I guess I was just being impulsive?

So I paid with my card and walked away with my ticket. I looked at the time - it was Friday at about 2pm and the time of my flight was 6:45pm, with a return flight on Sunday morning.

I drove home.

On the way I suddenly remembered that it’s my brother’s 8th birthday party this weekend (Every day for the last couple of weeks I’ve known that and it’s only in my dream that I was able to forget such an important event. I’m such a bad dream-brother). I suddenly panicked. I’d spent far more than I could afford, and with his party being on Saturday and me supposed to be travelling there later the very same evening…. I couldn’t really fly to America.

I drove home as fast as I could.

When I got home, I sat down, placed my hands on my head and started rocking backwards and forwards like a crazy man who’d just randomly bought expensive plane tickets when he should be going to his brother’s party instead. Then I had an idea!

eBay.

I looked at my watch. It was 5pm. There’s no way I could place the tickets on eBay, get someone to bid for them and give them the tickets in time. So no, that plan was out of the window.

Then I called my mate Matt who loves New York. Granted, this ticket doesn’t take you to New York - it takes you to some random place name that I’ve forgotten (for the sake of argument, it was something weird like “Yeebik”). Basically, it’s a name of a place that doesn’t exist in real life and if it did - I highly doubt that they would have their own airport.

Matt wasn’t interested. Especially at that price.

He’s a good mate, but I was also looking at the fact that I’d maxed out my card and wouldn’t be able to feed myself anymore. I offered him the tickets for £300. He still refused to accept them because he was afraid of the lepers. (I guess he’s heard of the place before?)

Time was getting on. I still had the tickets and no money, so I raced all the way back to the airport.

It was 6pm.

I went around, seeing if I could sell the tickets for £1,000. I couldn’t. So I started shouting at the top of my voice that I had return tickets to Yeebik to leave in 45 minutes for a discounted price of £1,000.

Guards escorted me out of the building. One of them was wearing a skirt - and before you as it was definitely not a kilt as kilts don’t come in pink. I’m not sure what scared me more - the fact that these guys had tazers or the fact that one of them was in a pink skirt and that seemed to pass as regulation uniform?

I suddenly had an idea. With no time to spare, I asked to use my one phone call to call the police department. I said that if they wanted a discount flight to America to send one of their officers on on police business then they could buy it for a “discounted” price of £2,500. They said no.

I offered them it for £1,500. Again, they said no.

“£1,000?”

“No!”

I cried. I think I may have wet myself in the process too over the seriousness of how screwed I was - in debt, about to be thrown in prison and in either scenario going to end up missing my brother’s party.

“£800?”

“Sold.”

They came to pay and collect the tickets. I saw them - three guys and a woman. They walked over to me with a large briefcase.

“Do you have the stuff?” they asked.

“Do you have the money?” I replied.

“We do. Now lets get this over with as quickly as possible.” She winked at her colleagues. I wondered what the hell was going on.

Then for some reason I said this; “So, is this from your donut fund, or…?” at which point a sniper shot me in the back, I fell to the ground, they pinned me down and all attacked me with tazers. One of them hit me in the face with the briefcase, my head was spinning, my body was going into spasm and I was wondering why I was still conscious and was screaming for someone to knock me out so that I wouldn’t feel the pain anymore. Then my watch alarm went off. I smiled at them, ready to use my super-strength that kicks in at precisely at 6:40pm!

But I must have done it wrong because that’s when I woke up.

Weird.

Even so, that being said, I still panicked because I realised I hadn’t sold the tickets and that they’d be far harder to sell in real life than in a dream. Then as I began to wake up more I came to realise that I hadn’t even bought the tickets in the first place.

I tend to find that my dreams don’t scare me, but what I must have done during the day for my mind to come up with messed up stuff like it usually does, does scare me.

Anyhoo, time to get my stuff ready for my brother’s birthday party this weekend. Do kids carry tazers around with them these days?!?

This entry was posted on Friday, February 16th, 2007 at 2:08 pm and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.