![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
More dreamland strangeness
Jun. 23rd, 2009 01:10 pmA lot of you have heard me say that I don't dream very often, but when I do, weirdness and hilarity often ensues.
Last night was no different. I reached an extremely deep state of slumber for the first time in a while, and found myself in a scene that had me entering the lobby of a budget hotel. I think it was the Hampton Inn I stayed at when I took part in a two-day writing workshop out in St. Charles a couple years ago.
I spoke to the desk clerk, explaining that I was there to interview several wrestling legends for a magazine article I was working on. I had a red spiral notebook and I held it up for him to see....proof of my credentials I suppose.
He directed me to an elevator and told me the number of the room I wanted. I was supposed to wait there and would be visited by each interview subject one at a time.
Cut to me in the room. I approached the bed and found Greg "The Hammer" Valentine already there, propped on several pillows. The covers were pulled up to his waist, and he was shirtless. He pulled aside the cover on the opposite side of the bed, and patted the empty space next to him.
The gesture made me really uncomfortable.
"You know I'm just here to talk," I said. I worried that he wouldn't believe me, and I backed away just to be on the safe side.
"Oh, I know." Valentine scooted toward his side of the mattress. "Not gonna hurt you. Just trying to make our conversation easier."
I took his word for it even though I was still really nervous, taking a seat at the very edge of the empty side of the bed. I kept glancing at the door, wondering if I could get to it fast enough if he tried anything funny. I knew he could easily overpower me, and just kept waiting for it to happen, dreading my fate, as if it was inevitable. I also knew that no one would take my side. They would only see the fact that I was alone in a hotel room with a wrestler in the middle of the night, and forget that I was just trying to do my job.
We finished our interview and Greg Valentine disappeared. I sat alone in the room for a minute, relieved that my fears were unfounded, and then Brutus "The Barber" Beefcake appeared. He was fully clothed, but somehow even more intimidating and much more lecherous than his predecessor. He kept rubbing my bare arm, and leering with the crazed eyes I recall from his backstage promos. I held him at bay by using my notebook as a shield...that really made him back off for some reason. I guess it reminded him of my purpose, helped him realize that I wasn't there to be his sexual plaything.
I knew he was going to pounce the second I wrapped up my questions, so I kept him talking, asking things that had absolutely no bearing on my article. I woke up before the conversation ended, and actually returned to the dream during my periods of snoozing the alarm, but never reached the point where things took a turn for the worst.
All in all, not the worst dream I've ever had, but still strange enough to be disturbing.
Last night was no different. I reached an extremely deep state of slumber for the first time in a while, and found myself in a scene that had me entering the lobby of a budget hotel. I think it was the Hampton Inn I stayed at when I took part in a two-day writing workshop out in St. Charles a couple years ago.
I spoke to the desk clerk, explaining that I was there to interview several wrestling legends for a magazine article I was working on. I had a red spiral notebook and I held it up for him to see....proof of my credentials I suppose.
He directed me to an elevator and told me the number of the room I wanted. I was supposed to wait there and would be visited by each interview subject one at a time.
Cut to me in the room. I approached the bed and found Greg "The Hammer" Valentine already there, propped on several pillows. The covers were pulled up to his waist, and he was shirtless. He pulled aside the cover on the opposite side of the bed, and patted the empty space next to him.
The gesture made me really uncomfortable.
"You know I'm just here to talk," I said. I worried that he wouldn't believe me, and I backed away just to be on the safe side.
"Oh, I know." Valentine scooted toward his side of the mattress. "Not gonna hurt you. Just trying to make our conversation easier."
I took his word for it even though I was still really nervous, taking a seat at the very edge of the empty side of the bed. I kept glancing at the door, wondering if I could get to it fast enough if he tried anything funny. I knew he could easily overpower me, and just kept waiting for it to happen, dreading my fate, as if it was inevitable. I also knew that no one would take my side. They would only see the fact that I was alone in a hotel room with a wrestler in the middle of the night, and forget that I was just trying to do my job.
We finished our interview and Greg Valentine disappeared. I sat alone in the room for a minute, relieved that my fears were unfounded, and then Brutus "The Barber" Beefcake appeared. He was fully clothed, but somehow even more intimidating and much more lecherous than his predecessor. He kept rubbing my bare arm, and leering with the crazed eyes I recall from his backstage promos. I held him at bay by using my notebook as a shield...that really made him back off for some reason. I guess it reminded him of my purpose, helped him realize that I wasn't there to be his sexual plaything.
I knew he was going to pounce the second I wrapped up my questions, so I kept him talking, asking things that had absolutely no bearing on my article. I woke up before the conversation ended, and actually returned to the dream during my periods of snoozing the alarm, but never reached the point where things took a turn for the worst.
All in all, not the worst dream I've ever had, but still strange enough to be disturbing.
