dream date

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Last night, I dreamed I was out on a date with an old high school flame to some ritzy restaurant in a posh neighborhood with its own personal theatre district. The food and service was amazing until that point where we got the bill and had to wait a painfully long time before we could get the attention of the waitress who had attended to us.

I went out to go find her to settle up — I’m still tediously old-fashioned like that: I like to pick up the tab when I’m the one who invites someone out to a meal. As I was doing so, it got crowded very fast in the ways that dreams like to put up obstacles to those kinds of progress. While I was fighting my way towards my elusive waitress (I could see her moving around at the other end of the crowded dining area) I bumped into someone and made the requisite apologies. She turned to me, saying it really was no bother at all. That’s when I realized I was apologizing to Mary Tyler Moore and she was having nothing to do with an apology for such a minor transgression.

“Oh my god!” I said, “It’s Mary Tyler Moore.” And then I recall that this was a ritzy restaurant in a posh neighborhood with its own personal theatre district in Minneapolis, fer chrissake. Aside from the matter that MTM was supposed to be dead, I chastised myself for not considering the possibility. After all, the show named after her took place in Minneapolis, fer crying out loud. I shouldn’t have been any more surprised to see her than when I caught a glimpse of Prince walking by during dinner. These things happen in Minneapolis from time to time…

She was looking stunningly beautiful for someone who was supposed to be dead, and I’m afraid, dear readers, I blurted that out. “Downright sexy, honestly,” I also admitted to her. And she was hawt in her little black evening dress. “Oh, you’re such a dear.” I didn’t recall thinking she was so lovely before, but I realized about that moment that I’d probably always had a secret crush on her since I was young. Secret from myself, it was so secret.

I mentioned I should get back to my date, but asked her to come so that old high school flame could see that the news reports were all wrong, and that MTM was alive in spite of the news of her demise. I caught sight of my date at the maitre d’s desk and, when we came up, she was finishing paying off our bill. “Oh man, I said that I’d get the tab,” I groaned. My date smiled and told me she’d overheard we’d get free tickets to the Jungle Theatre for a review of scenes of thirty-six (!) of their most popular productions from over the years if guests paid their bills up front of the restaurant. “I immediately wanted to take advantage of that, so I paid it off. Don’t worry, you can get our next me— OMFG! it’s Mary Tyler Moore!”

She insisted that Mary join us and we walked down the theatre aisles to our bench seats. My date wanted MTM to sit between us for the production before the lights went down. When they did, Mary stole a kiss from my cheek. “You really are a sweetheart for letting me ruin your date.”

Like I cared. A very beautiful not dead at all Mary Tyler Moore had just kissed me on the cheek. How could you complain about an interrupted date with that? Besides, my old flame was enthralled with the stage, especially because they decided to use candle lighting instead of electric stage lighting…

14 thoughts on “dream date

  1. Ah, if only dreams were reality!
    I have to say you recounted thisc really well – it’s usually a nightmare trying to explain what, for oneself, a very real experience. Fun times!

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    1. It may very well speak to how absurd my “normal” life is that makes it somewhat easy for me to relate the absurdity in my dreams.

      For instance, I just filtered through about 100 emails for work, sorting them into various levels of prioritization in less than five minutes while shuttling off one of my daughters to school in her PJs while the other twin was doing a damned good impression of Neil from The Young Ones while being indecisive about what to bring to school for lunch.

      And I’m thinking… wow, my dreams seem so organized and calm in comparison.

      Liked by 1 person

        1. All of the classics basically informs my sense of humor, from Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, Black Adder, Reginald Perrin, Red Dwarf, Are You Being Served, The Young Ones, and plenty of black comedies along the way. I believe my sense of humor was considered “warped” by most people who encountered me over the years.

          Liked by 1 person

    1. My mind likes to play shadow games with itself. I’m honestly surprised by this revelation. But, after I woke and thought about it, I had to admit that I always thought Mary Tyler Moore was kinda cute in a similar way as I’ve always had a thing for Audrey Hepburn (especially, perhaps, playing as Holly Golightly, but I love most of her movies).

      Liked by 1 person

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