Un-Amusement Park

        I was, in this dream, visiting the old partly broken down amusement park, somewhere in my dream city landscape. I don’t know exactly where it is located, as I don’t seem to remember ever getting there, just being there. In this dream there were several attractions being renovated, a different set than last time.

        As N and I walked through the place, it seemed that the only attractions N was interested in were being renovated. To be honest I was more interested in the renovation process than most of the attractions anyway. There were lots of cranes and pipe bending machines, as well as people welding and assembling large mechanical devices. Nerd heaven.

        In what could only be defined as a “snit” N made her way to the show office to complain.

I waited in the lobby for a bit, where I bumped into a park manager who asked, “Is there something I can do for you?”

I pointed to the office where N was ranting at another manager. “I’m with her, she’s really un-amused at the state of the park today.”

“Oh, we can give you free tickets to come back another day, if you’d like, and we’ll refund today’s fees.”

“Thanks, I’d like that.”

She got me squared away so I opened up the office door and tapped N on the shoulder. “I got us a refund, and tickets to come back another time.”

N grabbed the refund and the pair of tickets and stormed out. “I don’t know why I even bothered.”

I watched N get in her car and drive off.

“She’s kinda mean.”

“No, she’s just having a bad day,” I started making excuses for her, like I always had. I stopped in mid sentence, realizing I didn’t have to do that anymore.

“Yeah, and she forgot that we car-pooled, too.”

“Oh dear! Can I drop you off somewhere? Call you a cab?”

“Thanks, if you’re headed towards SM I’d love a ride. You can call me D.” I tried to make light of being stranded.

Time shifted, I rode the glass elevator in the parking structure several times, just to enjoy the view of people walking around the park, they looked like they were all having a good time, the feeling was catching.

Soon we were pulling into the parking lot of Penny Lane, where she invited me to stay for a drink after her union meeting. “I’m kind of the president, so I have to say a few words to get things going, then I’ll be right with you.”

The phrase “right with you” seems to have a pretty variable meaning for most people. I was just thinking that I could walk home from here in an hour or so when she slid into the booth next to me. She’d somehow slipped off and changed her clothes and re-done her hair. Instead of slicked back and held down by combs her hair was now a mass of variegated brown and blonde curls framing her face. Her blue eyes were crinkled up in the corners from smiling and I suddenly thought that her lips were very kissable looking.

        That’s the point that Teddy or Miranda (or both) went bounding across my tummy.

        I went back to sleep, but dropped into a work dream, answering parent calls and resetting passwords. The phone would not stop ringing, every call I took seemed to generate two or three calls at the same time. I wondered when I would ever find time to call people back.

Ad astra per technica,
FF