Que Sera Sera

Closest I've come to a vision quest

Last night I met some friends for $5 margaritas and tacos in Williamsburg. It was hot outside, but we sat in the shady back garden, which was lovely until I started trying to claw my nose off of my face. I’ve never had an allergic reaction to anything before, so it wasn’t until my friends suggested I should go around the corner and buy some Benadryl that it even occurred to me that might be the problem. By that point, I was one margarita in and every inch of my skin itched, and the Benadryls were making it impossible to hang, even after moving indoors. So I left the restaurant and headed for the train home, but found myself in a natural foods grocery store, where I wandered around in a daze and bought things I didn’t need, like a pint of chocolate milk in a glass bottle, french onion dip, and Vitamin E soft gels.

I got home at 9:30, took off my clothes, got in bed, and decided I had to drink the chocolate milk right then and there because getting up and putting it in the fridge was inconceivable, and I didn’t want it to go bad on my bedside table over night. Seconds after drinking an entire pint of chocolate milk, I turned off the light, passed out, and had a dream that I went to this bar in Morocco that was a pocket in time (duh, like there’s any other kind), where I had a long conversation with my mother’s German grandfather who died years before I was born, only he was about 45 years old and dressed in a navy polo and khakis like it was timelord casual Friday. He had to jet because bad guys were on his tail, naturally, but before he left he gave me a piece of paper covered in notes for me in code, some written in 1333, some written in 2058, and that’s when I realized he knew we were going to meet at this Moroccan time pocket dream bar, even though he’d gone through this ruse of “what’s your dad’s hair color” and so on, and also I hadn’t really burst any bubbles for him when I let it slip that my grandparents got divorced eventually. Anyway, he ducked out a back door and the bartender assured me that this was a safe place where I could work on deciphering the notes and get some rest before beginning my travels. I woke up at 5 am with a full bladder, reaching for my pen so I could start decoding.

So yeah I think I’m going to start doing drugs.

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