So the other morning I had this dream. I was a guest at this wedding, which took place on some school sports field. The field looked suspiciously like the running track at the school I currently attend. Yet it wasn’t my school at all, but instead somewhere in Westchester County.
As for the wedding itself, it looked like a second marriage for both the bride and groom. It was an older interracial couple. The bride was white, the groom black. Both seemed to be in their mid-forties. I viewed the wedding from behind a fence, which separated one part of the local sports field from the rest of the park.
I wasn’t really paying attention to the wedding itself. As I sat down at a worn picnic table, my concerns were more about being able to get a ride back to the train station. I had two suitcases stashed near the closest bathroom. The suitcases weren’t the ones we see today with travelers, with a collapsible handle and wheels attached to the bottom for easy transport. These were two brown suitcases from yesteryear. The type you see in old films, with hard plastic handles. I looked up, and there was a professor I had a few semesters back, who I wasn’t particularly fond of. She saw me, but walked past without acknowledgement. The feeling was mutual.
Out of the blue, I began chatting with this girl. She was the adult daughter of the bride. She looked like a younger version of actress Maya Rudolph who co-starred in the film “Bridesmaids.” Her hair was red, which was pulled back in a dressy bun and wearing a white formal sundress. My guess she was in her twenties. I mentioned that my former professor passed me by. The adult daughter’s response: “Oh that was you? Dude, you should’ve heard the things she said about YOU!”
(Don’t you just hate when people say this?)
She started to get chummy with me. I thought we had a good rapport going, so I figured I would ask her about giving me a lift to the closest train station. Suddenly her tone changed despite me offering to reimburse her for the cost of the gas. She inquired about why I wasn’t calling a cab. My reply was that I didn’t know the area very well. I didn’t have numbers for any cab companies. Plus I have a general dislike for cabdrivers anyway.
Hesitantly, she agreed, but on the condition that I would give her thirty dollars for the ride. Somehow I knew that she was trying to rip me off. In the dream I knew the actual cost of a cab ride. It was twelve dollars, not thirty.
Now in real life, I probably would have told her to go suck it, and called a cab company, right? Yet dreams are dreams, and of course dreams don’t make any sense. So anyway…I replied that I already knew the true fare was twelve, and not thirty. Quickly she told me to wait right there. Within minutes, the groom sat next to me. He was wearing a white suit, white hat, tall, chubby but still muscular. He seemed street wise in a con-man type of way.
“I understand you need a ride” he asked in a semi-deep voice.
Again, in real life, why would a groom offer a wedding guest, particular a stranger a ride to the train station? Wouldn’t he be getting ready for a honeymoon? Wouldn’t he be more focused on his new bride? Most of all, since we were strangers to begin with – why was I even there in the first place? I guess it’s a dream, so of course none of this makes sense.
Anyway, the groom in his street tough voice begins to hustle me for once again – thirty dollars for a ride to the nearest train station. And again, my response was, no, the actual cost is twelve, not thirty. He tried to pretend as if I didn’t know what I was talking about. I interrupted his con-man act by stating “uh, excuse me – I’m from New York.” His facial expression dropped. He stopped cold for a second. Within seconds he regained his composure…”oh yeah, I’m from Brooklyn myself” continuing where he left off.
He offered a compromise. It would be twenty for the car ride instead of the thirty.
I agreed, but in the dream I didn’t trust the situation. Again in real life I would’ve told him to piss off right from the get go. You would think. He suggested leaving the money in a white business envelope on the picnic table. I did exactly that – but before I did, I slipped out two or three dollars to see what they would do. I excused myself to use the bathroom so I could pick up my two suitcases. I was only gone for about three to five minutes. When I came back, everyone was gone. The wedding, the guests, everything was gone. There was no evidence that a wedding had taken place, not even litter. All I could see was a picnic table, and a large empty field. The only two things left behind was the envelope with the rest of the money, and a set of car keys. They had no intention of ever driving me to the train station. The other reason could’ve been not leaving the full amount specified, so they high-tailed it.
Yet I figured in the family’s attempt to ditch me, the car keys were left in haste. So I took the car keys in my hand, and THREW them angrily far across the field. At this point I figured two can play that game. Besides…you try finding a set of car keys in a large grassy field. That is, if you knew.
Taking my two brown beat-up used suitcases, I lugged myself up a hill to a nearby bagel shop. Strangely enough, this bagel shop looked very similar to the one that’s nearby my school. Huh. Only I was in Westchester. So off I went.
That was my dream. Usually I don’t remember them, especially in full detail. Obviously this one was sending me numerous messages, all which have yet to be decoded. BTW, thanks to this dream, I had overslept, which in turn made me late for my first class. Leave it for Mercury in retrograde for something like this to happen.
