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What Ingredients Make the Best Sandwich?

Date: 5-Jan-2009/18:07+3:00

Tags: , , ,

Characters: me, crewman one, crewman two, crew, girl, woman

I was in the car garage of a building and was thinking about going to an apartment above, but pondering the reason behind the parking policy. You were allowed to put your car there if you didn't live there, but you couldn't take it out after a certain time--they locked all the cars in until the next morning. I realized this is because there were clubs or something in the area, and it was enough of a discouragement to keep people going to the club from parking there if they weren't spending the night with residents.
A girl I was with began to walk with me, staring at all the traffic cones and random objects stored in it. She was also very curious, and ran out when she noticed a recycling crew picking up bins and throwing their contents into a truck. When I got to the crew, I started kind of asking odd questions that came to mind.
me: "Where do these traffic cones come from."
crewman one: "India, I think."
He picked up a cone and kind of inspected it.
me: "Have you ever seen India in person?"
crewman one: "No."
me: "I'm a bit disoriented... I don't feel well, can you help stabilize me?"
crewman two: "Sorry about your health, but there's nothing I can do."
me: (to girl) "Hmm, India. Well wait, where are we?"
She shrugged.
me: (to crew) "What year is this?"
crew: (together) "28081118"
me: (to girl) "Does that sound like a high number to you? I'd say more like... 2008."
girl: "I'd have said 1990."
me: "1990, but some of the technology you had seemed a bit more advanced than that. Oh, wait, I guess that was a different segment of the dream, probably another girl."
girl: (a bit huffy) "Oh really."
Note I got the sense that she meant this in more of a "what were you doing in a dream segment with another girl" instead of "no that was me, I can't believe you don't remember", though it was possibly expressed in jest.
We turned a corner and were in a series of hallways. They started having structure and color on them and were very iconographic. I pointed excitedly at various objects on the wall, they were small but looked like hardened ceramic picture frames.
me: "See! This is what I'm talking about, this stuff. But whatever this is, I'm afraid you're pretty much dead in here now. Once you're in. I mean, I'll wake up... I hope for your sake you wake up too. Because I don't think there's any way out."
The environment was very clean and sort of clinical, although the tones were warm. We happened across a woman who was seated on a bench.
woman: "You are being watched over, why do you think you have to worry about this right now?"
me: "Why am I supposed to take your word for it?"
woman: "There are so many things you don't understand as it is. If you really can't find things to do on Earth, do you think that having more revealed to you is going to make things any clearer? If you want some hard questions, I'll give you some. Figure those out first."
She handed me an oddly designed flier that was called something like "Eric's list of really hard questions." The things were playful and goofy, like "What ingredients make the best sandwich?" I wasn't amused.
me: "Look, send me a list of these questions and I'll tell you the answers. Then I want to know how I get here and what is going on, rather than accepting the say-so of 'everything's under control'."
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The accounts written here are as true as I can manage. While the words are my own, they are not independent creative works of fiction —in any intentional way. Thus I do not consider the material to be protected by anything, other than that you'd have to be crazy to want to try and use it for genuine purposes (much less disingenuous ones!) But who's to say?