Tuesday, June 18, 2013

on tour with the couch stealers

i would say this dream is weird but they are all pretty damn weird.

i was on tour, solo acoustic. DIY style. the opening 'band' was chris bowser, jeff kaleth and marshall kreeb, among others. they had a handful of teenage kids doing their roadie work. we played one of our first shows at some soup kitchen place. i was surrounded by fans but saw jeff and chris carrying a couch out of a doorway while everyone was preoccupied. i ran over and asked them what they were doing, very concerned.

"did she ask you to move that? why are you taking the couch? why aren't you answering me? what the fuck dudes?"

they just giggled like 5 year olds. when they finally got it outside jeff admitted no one gave any permission and we had the kids move it back.

the next show we played was at a battered women's shelter. i had just finished my set and i see them carrying something off at the back of the club, smiling and laughing. i'm too busy getting paid to deal with it. eventually i sneak a peek into their second trailer (towed behind the first) and they have two stolen couches from the shelter stacked on top of each other. they brought an extra trailer just to steal couches!

that evening we're all crashing in some hotel room, spread out on the floor. everyone has a sleeping bag and a sack of mcdonalds food. i finally tell the guys:

"look, i'm serious. if you steal one more couch, i will never play another show with you guys, ever. it's stupid."

just smiles, looking at each other and busting into fits of uncontrollable laughter. nobody is taking me seriously at all.

"did you guys even hear me?"

at this point one of the teen roadies, who had apparently been doing shots, starts throwing up in my mcdonalds sack. i start getting shittier and shittier about the couch stealing, to the point where i forget he puked in there. finally, i am about to make a dramatic exit and i reach in and pull out a handful of salad smothered in thousand island dressing (which i hate) and stuff it in my mouth. i can taste the salad, it's warm and gross. i chew it really slow and deliberately. ok, i have a mouthful of salad now... what's going to happen? for a second i think i am eating vomit but then i realize he actually threw up in a different sack. (?)

i leave the room to go to my wife's room. she's flown in from somewhere and staying in the 'extra security' suites. the hotel is like a giant entertainment resort, part theme park, part casino, part ghetto. i get a ride across the grounds in a golf cart and it still takes forever. i climb up the side of a scaffold and jump into a balcony. there's an empty keystone light cardboard box and cigarette butts along with a lawn chair. wrong room. i open the door and there's a meth-head looking dude in there playing video games on a small tv.

"WHOOR YOO?" he slurs, half awake.
"wrong room, sorry buddy" i reply as i exit through the front door like a ninja.

i make my way across level after level of parking garage. just when i can't believe how long it's taking, i come to a main hub. there, encased in a huge glass-covered room are three elevator shafts. each one is like a giant silver tube going up and down. i get inside the room and i see other stairs going off at various angles. people are coming and going. i see someone go up to the center elevator. the door is framed in a giant, red, pulsing light. someone holds up a key fob and the door opens. i remember barbie had given me two key fobs, one for the main elevator and one for the extra security zone. i fish around in my pocket and finally get the elevator ride i need.

when i get to the room, i start complaining about the couch stealing band and how they didn't even give a shit. then it fades out and i can't remember anything else.

the end?

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