I think I dream most nights, I even wake up remembering vague “shadows” of my dreams a few nights a week, although by the time I stumble to the shower, I’ve forgotten them. Not so last night. I had the most bizarre, twisted, dream EVER, and unfortunately I won’t soon forget it.
We were on a cruise ship, not surprising given my recent vacation. But this was some sort of bizarre special interest cruise. The cruise ship’s nightclub was a smoky, tired looking place that bore a striking resemblence to an old roller rink. At one point, a flash mob broke out into a rendition of Janet Jackson’s old hit “If” (which had a well choreographed video). Halfway through, Miss Jackson herself busted onto the stage and in an angry fit, put a stop to the folks who were “violating her copyright” and then preceded to show them how it was really done. And not well. Her iconic dance moves looked more like a grand mal seizure. She was booed from the stage.
At some point, you know how dreams are–fragmented and following no real timeline, a group of two rowdy children made a nuisance of themselves on one of the stairways. I firmly demanded that the little hellions take me to their mother. So they marched me downstairs to what had to be the lowest deck on ship…we entered their stateroom where we found their mother in an obvious lesbian tryst.
“Not now kids! I’m trying to find myself!” she said, and as she got up to slam the door in our faces, her breasts looked like two giant bloodshot eyeballs.
As we moved down the hallway on this lower ship deck, a voice came over the loudspeaker announcing that the entertainment and shows were about to begin. Suddenly, hoards of people swarmed the hall, clammering to get into various staterooms. Somehow, I understood that the shows and entertainment were happening inside the various cabins, and so I started peeking in. In the first, a group of emo-looking emaciated people were doing God knows what to each other, all while a big news camera was rolling. A group of midwestern tourists, looking like they might have just left their Sunday School groups, stood taking pictures and remarking to each other how wonderful the cruise was. I got out of there and went across the hall.
There, Betty White, as Rose Nylan, was joined by a rather embarassed looking Blanche, Dorothy, and Sophia. They were embarassed because Betty had volunteered to demonstrate a line of sex toys that bore her name. There, in front of God and everyone, she dropped her sensible skirt and made a 12 inch dildo disappear. Now before you ask, I hadn’t drank a drop, eaten anything strange, or partaken of any drugs, prescribed or otherwise before going to bed. But, as the emcee of the Betty White sex show announced that her toy would be auctioned off that night in the dining room, I woke up. Thank God.