In last night's case, I broke away from the familiar mold of Wendy's, and headed down to Sheetz. I got a footlong turkey hoagie, then drove to Canonsburg lake and ate half of it. That's my little meditation spot. It was because of this sandwich that I was able to have this epiphany...
I woke up at 6:30, when everybody else goes to school, and as usual, there was a dispute between my brother and my Mom about whether or not he was actually awake. Every morning is like a war zone, because Tommy, who is normally a very nice kid, is very angry when he wakes up. He yells at everyone, insists he's awake and has been since 4:47 a.m. (or whenever he woke up and looked at the clock for a moment before rolling over and sleeping again) and then of course, falls asleep again.
After this, I went back to sleep, and something strange happened.
Join me on my journey...
I'm in my house, and I'm hanging out with some people from school. We're just chilling, enjoying a few beers, which I think is ok to say since it wasn't real. I think some southern comfort was involved, but though I remember making the drink, I don't remember dream-consuming it. Regardless, I remember being quite thirsty, and it worked. Sometimes I sleepwalk, and actually do what I'm dreaming about...I really hope this wasn't the case here, because I'm not sure what it is that I would have consumed.
After a bit, we left my house, and were in the hallway outside my apartment in Erie. Changes of scenery in dreams are not to be questioned. Just go with it.
As we were walking around in the hallway, we were attacked by the guy who was at the cash register at Sheetz last night. Picture, if you will, a long haired, very dirty looking ginger kid. Apparently he got off work at 7:15 a.m. and was pissed at me for not asking him out on a date or something, I dunno. Perhaps he was jealous of my awesome hair? Whatever the case, the fellow had a problem with me.
That reminds me, I gotta call for a haircut. Thanks, dirty ginger kid.
Anyways, he killed Ryan and Dan, so sorry about that, fellas. You two don't read this anyways, so perhaps it's deserved in dream world.
I was taken hostage by this kid, and led to the large classroom in Zurn hall, where there was a class going on. He was going to kill me in front of a large group of people, which is really not cool. I was thinking at this point that he needed a better way of channeling his anger, perhaps fly fishing or maybe he could join the monks from Monty Python.
In the classroom, we got up on the stage, which doesn't exist in real life. I knew this was the end for me, because in dream world, I never win. Much like Mike Birbiglia's description of his dreams, if I'm in an athletic competition, I always come in 2nd or 3rd, but I never win. If my life is on the line, forget it.
I'm in the last seconds of my dream life. I'm flashing back to all the good memories...the Dogfish Head 60 minute IPA (if it's a dream, I gotta have my favorite, right?)....the southern comfort and coke, whose consumption was in question. The brief walk outside my apartment before my friends were offed. So many good memories, all now reduced to the gangly, nerdy kid with a gun to my head. This was it for me...in the dream.
Then it happened.
Courtesy of PAYD (http://pensthroughmylens.blogspot.com/)
Terminator Geno busted through the door, and rushed to my aid. The NHL's leading scorer unleashed upon my attacker with a burst of fury that was most recently seen crushing the hopes and dreams of many elderly Floridians in the Penguins' 8-1 assault on the Tampa Bay Lightning.
There was no fight, just a beating. The man they call Geno disposed of my attacker with vicious Matt Cooke-esque elbows, and was quickly finished after punching his way through a goal by goal recap on Sheetznerd's face.
All who were in the room thanked Geno for his heroics, but he, being the merciful lord (Voldemort style, not Jesus style) simply said "anuzzah day at ze office", and with a wave, he departed, never to be seen at Mercyhurst again.
Just like this.
Thank you, dream Malkin. Because of you, I was able to continue sleeping for a few minutes.
Evgeni Malkin leads the NHL scoring race with 78 points, 3 ahead of Tampa's Steven Stamkos, and 6 ahead of Philadelphia's Claude Giroux. He also randomly saves people from fake danger in dreamworld.
Will Schuster is the author of this blog, and needs a better way of spending his time.