For the past three nights, I’ve had this dream that I have to go to the Nashville Knucklehead’s house and make him and his daughter dinner so that we can then go to a strip club he wants me to invest in. And, frankly, it’s the kind of strip club I would invest in, like the club from Idlewild but with buck-nakedness and sex. Especially if I had my own private box, which, in my dream, I seem to. Though where I’m getting the money to invest in this club, I’m not sure.
But here’s the thing about the dream. Every time I dream it, I’m driving on my way to go make dinner and I go blind, while driving, and my brakes don’t work. I can go slowly, but I must go forward and I cannot see anything but blinding whiteness.
And yet, I still get to the house okay.
But it’s so real that when I got in the car this morning to come to work, I had this moment of panic when I was sure that my brakes didn’t work, even though, they clearly did.