Dream Journal 2

I meet a friend of mine named Kevin C., someone who I knew in middle school but haven't had contact with since. He seems to be in the process of moving, as he has quite a lot of stuff packed in cardboard boxes. He shows me a two-player fighting video game, which looks graphically similar to the old SNK Neo-Geo Samurai Showdown, but which can be controlled merely by passing one's hands over different parts of the controller without actually touching it. I can't quite get the hang of this, though I can do somewhat better by actually pressing the buttons instead. When it becomes abundantly clear that the game isn't quite my bag, he presents me with a beautiful intricately-carved chess set, with large yet exquisitely-detailed chess pieces carved from some shimmering substance. It's almost magical-looking, and apparently I get to keep it.

He shows me his car, a little blue compact, and drives me to the place where he works, where I've apparently agreed to help out for a few hours as a volunteer, as a favour I suppose. His job turns out to be at a very large Chinese & Italian restaurant. Although not much more fancy than a normal restaurant, the place is huge, with a large central dining area and several bars in smaller rooms off to the sides. Deciding it would be a good idea to meet the various employees, I visit one of the restaurant's several bars, which is tended by a very sweet elderly Chinese lady. She's the sort of person one gets along with instantly, and before long she reveals to me that she has a side business right there at the bar: a hamster that can supposedly tell fortunes. The method of the hamster's divination involves the bartender laying small polished stones with rune-like symbols out on the bar, then setting down the hamster and studying his reaction to the spread. She offers me a reading on the house, but for some reason I remember that we've parked Kevin's car improperly, so I go out to adjust it (apparently I have the keys for some unknown reason).

I go outside onto the restaurant's parking lot, adjacent to the Camp Hill Shopping Mall near where I grew up, and now there's snow falling. It turns out that Kevin parked next to a yellow curb line, in an awkward and very narrow triangular street. I move it to a better position, and survey the surrounding area. Behind the restaurant is a secluded suburban area, which I explore. It seems this suburb has its own amateur wrestling league, and a match with seated spectators is going on in a basketball court in a little park. I find this odd even in the dream, especially considering the cold weather, but don't stop to watch or ask questions.

My walk leads me back to the restaurant, where I decide to try another one of the bars. This time the bartender is a friendly Englishman, a stout older gentleman with white hair. A radio is playing, and suddenly Saint Etienne's "The Bad Photographer" comes on. Very rarely, in my experience, does recognisable music appear in a dream. I express my great surprise that such a great song would get played on American radio, and that's about it, as I'm woken up by a meowy kitten. Good dream though, with an uncommonly large amount of detail. I hope you lot enjoy it as well.