Tag: street fair

Categories
Dream Journal

Butt Pinch from Gabrielle

I’m volunteering at a fair along with some friends. The booths are indoors but the public walkways outside, a bit like a public market. I’ve been wandering for a bit and come back to our booth, where I think we’re raising money for a charity. My two female friends have been holding themselves up with their feet raised on a dais and their hands on the ground, like the wheel pose in yoga. This has the effect of having their butts flexed tight and held in the air. I offer to take a turn the remainder of a the day to replace them, despite the obvious expectation that my male butt won’t be as eye-catching as both of theirs. Nevertheless, they’re thankful to take me up on the offer and I feel pretty good about being able to provide some equal-opportunity butt presentation.

While I’m zoning out in my pose, visitors to the booth mill around. I don’t pay much attention to them, as my role for now is just to keep the pose during my shift. One of them startles me by pinching my butt, which — while not exactly disallowed — isn’t particularly encouraged. I collapse in surprise, and when I look up to see who did it, I see a familiar face: Gabrielle from the TV show Xena (as played by Renee O’Connor). There’s no obvious connection for why she would’ve pinched me, nor have I thought of her recently. It’s a good laught though, and I’m kind of happy it happened to me. It’s a fun story to retell to the girls, and I doubt the reverse situation would be the case. I mention that hope we got the event on video.

There’s a Mom shopping at the fair who drops her two-year-old with us at the booth. I’m talking to it while, having realized that the kid can understand a lot more that she can answer. It’s fun to have a full conversation though, without regard for what she probably expects from adults. I remember a specific occasion where I made a very long, sophisticated, multi-step question, where I knew she understood the whole thing — but all she can reasonably manage as a response is a flustered “well I don’t know!” It’s a bit of mischief we both seem to enjoy.

We review the time we’ver had when Mom shows up again. Shortly afterwards, I get to tell the girls about Gabby pinching me, which the do find as entertaining as hoped.

Categories
Dream Journal

Hardware Store Naps thru Greek Island Graphs

I’m enlightened and free. I’m also younger than I am currently in the waking world. Because I can, I take a nap in a hardware store. Something to do isn’t it? (I remember sleeping in dreams more often than I used to — perhaps a sign that I’m able to recall more of the story from a complete REM cycle.)

Wandering over to the Christmas discounts section, but I can’t get through because my cart blocks the aisle. I’m wearing my favorite fleece-lined burgundy winter hoodie (which I’ve only had since this October). I pass through a section at the back of the store, near the underground parking lot, which is special for today, similar to a craft fair: many vendors behind tables each sell individual items for model train sets. The sellers (all redheads) are arranged in a square-ish gradient by the shade of their hair, a peculiar effect I don’t think I’ve noticed anywhere before.

For a little while afterwards, I’m separating coffee beans from big chunks of salt mixed in. While my hands are busy I discuss something with my friend Sherilyn (who I’ve not seen in several years). We’re talking as though I once had a crush on her. I wish I understood better what we were talking about.

My wife mentions her hope of one day vacationing in the Greek islands — perhaps soon. I take it upon myself, with spur-of-the-moment insight, to thoroughly plan a trip based on timed transfers between islands. For instance, if we made it to a certain island by 4pm we could visit a certain place — but if we missed our ETA, we’d stay at a particular hotel, then leave at 10 the next morning. There were fallbacks and chains of causality laid out quite clearly. Upon reflection, it felt like exploring graph theory to prioritize and plan the trip.

Categories
Glot

Weird Street

Look at you, in your little green tutu with the pink trim. I see you’re co-ordinated with the tights. And with the pink and green foofura tufts around the shade structures, even. Who just keeps neon green fishnets lying around the house, nowadays? You do. Great getup… although it doesn’t really match the wig. That is a wig, I hope? The dark sunglasses bring everything together and remind me that, hey, you have facial hairyou have facial hair. Your girlfriend’s pretty hot too.

I went to the How Weird Street Fair along Howard street, here in San Francisco. A very San Francisco event. Midday not many people were there, but the later I stayed the more teeming and freaky and hot it became. When I say hot, I mean summertime-hot, unforeseen unseasonably early-May hot, hojeez I think my sunburn matches my red shirt hot. Lots of people-watching, loads of dancing, more loud music than you could shake the ground at. It’s like a preview of Burning Man without the water rationing. I didn’t dance—a reasonable fear of overheating. Perhaps also an unreasonable fear that dancing would annoy more than amuse.

Heard there was talk of shutting it down, before. I left earlier in the day, around three, and missed some action. There’s a lot of talk now about shutting it down, after. I sure hope not. Seems about ten or fewer people on the street don’t like the noise it causes one Sunday a year. Despite the signed petition of around 100 residents, the city and police wanna be rid of it. Damned if I’m the first to say it—but that’s pretty weird.