Last night I had the strangest dream...
I found myself at what appeared to be a high school, where I was late arriving for a speech being given by a man who used to work for Life of Virginia 25 years ago. By the time I finally found the auditorium, the place was packed with people I haven't seen in at least that long, all from my days with that deceased company. The weird thing was that all of them looked like they did back then. No one had aged, except me. Not only that, but the speaker was talking about some new product they were introducing, and his pitch was so chocked full of lies and distortions that I found myself challenging him from my seat in the back..."What a crock of crap!!" I heard myself yell accompanied by a collective gasp from the crowd. I proceeded to inform the crowd of what total bulls**t they were being fed since the product the guy was introducing would turn out to be a colossal failure resulting in endless litigation and the eventual sale of the company to General Electric.
Unfortunatley, my sage warnings were not well received by the speaker or the crowd. I was roundly booed. Epitaphs began flying around..."it's just Dunnevant, he's always such a contrarian douchebag!"
After the speech, I began walking around and realized that I was at a convention of sorts. But instead of some tropical locale, the big shots at the company had chosen to have the big event at a high school full of students. I saw small groups of people at tables drinking milk out of little cartons, and they were all having the best time ever. Every now and then I would see someone who recognized me and they would call me over to their table, give me a hug and then rip me for interrupting the speech.
Then, some woman came up to me to inform me that I hadn't properly registered for the event. The registration table was in the girls locker room. The towel-clad teenagers looked none too pleased with our presence, but after receiving my ID badge, I left and saw an elegant tent out on the football field under which, was a group of a hundred or so people in black tie and festive gowns. The sign on the tent said, Top of the Table. I was part of this group since there was a place setting with my name on it, but it was back in the corner and I was the only one at the table. To make things even more awkward, I was dressed in sweat pants and a wife-beater. Pam was nowhere to be found. Even in my dreams, she has the good sense not to be seen in public with me.
After a while, I excused myself to go find a bathroom. The search seemed endless, the type of exhausting, tedious trek that one often has in dreams. When I finally found a workable men's room, it was jammed packed with a film crew shooting a commercial for a medicine that fights toenail fungus starring none other than...Rush Limbaugh. The sight of him made up in yellowish green tights was too much to bear, even in my dreams. I woke up and hurried downstairs to get all the details down before I forgot anything.
Might it have been something I ate? Cajun pasta at Rock Bottom perhaps? Or was it some suppressed message from my sub-conscious telling me the unvarnished truth...that I really am a contrarian douchebag?