Earlier this month I dreamnt -
I'm in like a lobby somewhere with my mother, and I suddenly realize that Katy Perry's "Smile" tour isn't being cancelled because of coronavirus but is somehow still pressing on in revised form, and I'm being pressured by mother into attending even though I have this huge sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach about going because of coronavirus.
Next, we're inside and at the back of what's like a large dinner theater room with these big round tables with white tables cloths on them and there's like red curtains and an elegant carpet, only, there's like two seats at every table towards the back and facing the stage because of distancing, and here and there there's like these gigantic solid cuts of meats shaped almost like a gyro stack but like three or four feet high, just sitting there on the table with slices cut off of them, since that was one of the dinner entrees that you could order.
Except, we don't order, and even though that's technically allowed, I still feel very uncomfortable, because everyone else got the dinner theater ticket or whatever.
Next, Katy Perry sings with minimal accompaniment, and then everything flashes forward and my eyesight is no longer located in my conscious head, and I can see a room where the tables are cleared and there's a small group of people clustered together up towards the front of the stage, with this one (middle-aged) (geeky) (black) woman shrieking along to the climactic chorus of some song, to where it's impossible to hear anything else.
And, even though I'm not in that room, I keep thinking that this isn't good with coronavirus precautions.
And then, I wake up.
. . .
No comments:
Post a Comment