white ties and grease monkeys (dream sequence)
Author’s note: this is based on a dream I had a few weeks ago. I have no idea what it means. Uh… Enjoy!
It was the happiest day of my life. Like a wedding, without the spouse.
All those years of living with nothing to show for it…until today. My family had come from all over the tri-state area to be here today for this moment.
The day of my birth. I couldn’t believe how people had gone to the trouble of coming here. Not just my parents and close relatives, but aunts, uncles, cousins I hadn’t seen in years. I bathed in the glory of my people, united. A people unified by blood, something greater than any one of us could ever be. And we were all here. Together.
God had blessed me with perfect weather on this late spring day. I’m a March baby but we held the event in early May because of March’s notoriously blustery weather. And we couldn’t have been luckier. 75 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. The kind of day you savor because you know you only get so many of them in your lifetime.
I’m not the most outgoing guy. I’m one of those people who’s only extroverted when surrounded by people they love and trust. So I was the man of the hour on this day. It was the least I could do for my people.
They had rented out an event hall for my special day. Everyone dressed to impress, but I did them one better — I arrived in the finest tuxedo I could afford. My family got a kick out of it — them in their run-of-the-mill suits and cocktail dresses, and then I roll up looking like Dean Martin. But it was worth it to see the smiles on their faces.
They served everyone a lovely three-course meal and an open bar, the latter of which I took full advantage of. Like I said, I’m not an outgoing man and I need social lubricant for shindigs like these. I knocked back drink after drink, sticking to vodka — it’s the liquor that loosens me up the most.
Eventually, the luncheon was over. Everyone came up to me before they left, to give their well-wishes and pay their respects to me once again. So long, everyone. It was a pleasure to see you.
We dispersed and went our separate ways. I had arrived alone and went back to look for my car. Where the hell was it, anyway? I parked on the street…it was just a few blocks away. Right next to that auto repair and gas station.
As I approached the street where I’d parked, I pressed the lock button on my keychain so my car would make that little honk. (I have the world’s worst sense of direction and my vision was a little “hazy” at this point.)
I neared a street when suddenly…
“Honk!”
Ah! Success!
Then I noticed something strange.
The car that honked was not my car.
I drive a 2005 Honda CRV and the car that honked was a 2013 Ford Explorer. I even tried opening the door with the key and to my surprise, it worked!
I’m no car expert, so I decided to ask the boys at the gas station what was going on.
“Oh, right, the Honda,” said one mechanic. “We took that one in. Needed some work. But it’ll be back soon. An hour or so. You can wait here if you want.”
“All right…”
I didn’t remember dropping it off for maintenance, or that it needed any, but I trusted their judgment. All I could do was wait. Surely someone would drive up with my car soon. Although I did feel silly sitting in a mechanic’s waiting room wearing my best evening attire.
I looked up every time I saw a car park on the street. None were my Honda.
One hour became two. The sun descended in the sky.
I was starting to get agitated.
I found a mechanic with a bushy beard and slicked back hair with the sides buzzed. He looked like a macho hipster.
“Ay, sorry mate,” he said. “I don’t know where yer car is. I don’t think it’s comin’ back. Not tonight, anyway.”
“Oh,” I said.
We stood there. It became apparent he had nothing more to add.
“Well, I guess I better file a report at the precinct.”
I slumped into my plastic chair in the waiting room, as the sun continued to set. I saw my reflection in the window. My tuxedo looked faded and rumpled.
