Friends That Dreams Are Made Of

I have the awesomest friends ever. They’re even awesome in my dreams, which I will get to in a second. First, let me expound upon the virtues of my roommate, Tabby.

Tabby: [DAH-bee] n. 1. A creature of brain & determination, rooted in insight, who is good at thinking & doing. 2. A rare breed.

My headlights went out on my car. This person, the Rock Tabster (another incarnation of her name), Snoop Tabby Tabs Esquizzle (as she is an attorney) researched what my car model needed, bought the bulbs on the way home from work, & battled Korean engineering at great personal sacrifice to change the bulbs out. She didn’t have to do this; she didn’t need to do this, but she did, without being asked. She is awesome.

She was also in my dream last night, as were several of my other friends. It was pretty bitchin’. If you like over the top gritty action shit, this dream would be your favorite film.

It was set in a quasi-post-apocalyptic Los Angeles. There had been some kind of major incident, not bad enough to destroy the city, but there was some intense damage in parts. It seemed to involve an international conflict as LA was uncharacteristically hardened, self-sufficient, & patriotic…like the country but with high rises, lights, & Mercedes.

Picture a partly blown out condo…mine & Tabby’s, but the utilities were all working. We’d made a makeshift patio out of what was left of my bedroom & were watching CNN on my TV. Kurt & Irina were there, as was Ben & the person known on Twitter as Salty Hollywood. We were surveying damage across the nation & loading assault weapons when one of my favorite songs played of its own accord on my iPhone; I picked it up. “Hi Adam. We’re all here.”

“Good, good. Meet me, Pig, & Krupke at Ventura & Sepulveda. The task force needs to start tonight if we’re gonna nip this bullshit in the bud.”

We all got in Tabby’s Camry & rolled over slightly damaged & debris-laden streets to the location. Adam, Pig, & Krupke were in a Hummery jeep with guns mounted up front. Everybody did “man hugs” & mounted up as other vehicles filled with other local friends pulled up.

It was an odd mix, as I’m friends/good acquaintances with both diehard conservatives & flaming liberals in this town. In addition to the folks in our vehicle, there was another w/ Andrew, Nolte, Gaz, Shelli, & Larry + wife. Another with Dan, Edith, my boss, & Jen. James, Beth, Shannon & Dwight must have driven up for the occasion. Thad, Ezra, Meredith, Holly & Chris were apparently in town, too.

Adam & Kurt gave us a run down of the plan & we were off. Every single building we passed, whether high rise, apartment complex, or taco stand had an American flag hanging or draped from it. We stopped at a big bank where the flag was backwards. Pig let a short burst out in the air to get the inhabitants’ attention.

A very slim, balding, besuited banker came out. Tabby trained the jeep gun on the building while the rest of us jumped out & greeted the banker. He looked terrified.

“You in charge in there?” Adam gruffly asked.

“Uh, yeah. I’m in charge of mortgages.”

Ben snorted.

Kurt walked up to him, “Sir, are you aware that your American flag is hung incorrectly?”

The guy looked up. “Uh, no? What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s the other way around, dumbass,” Adam said, not without humor, walking up to him. “Our team can fix it for ya.”

The guy blinked. “Uh, yeah! Yeah! Please, by all means!”

Krupke covered the entrance while myself & some of the others got a rig set up. Keep in mind, I am terrified of heights, so this is not something I would normally do. I handed Adam my weapon & got up there with Ben & Salty. We were up around the eighth floor, got the flag turned around, & lowered ourselves down. We packed up the rig & continued down Ventura, the team doing something like 25 more places before calling it a night. People cheered as we rolled on.

We then had a giant taco party & I woke up.

This dream was even more fun than the time I was blonde & took out 80 mob guys with two Glocks & a knife. It was also the first dream in five days that didn’t feature Stephen Kruiser in a Mexican street market, which is weird cos he has guns & is also a friend.

I don’t know what was more fun…running around LA open carrying with my people or seeing LA actually give a damn about the flag. Either way, I drank a lot of margaritas at that taco party.

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