The Woman in the Flowered Halter Dress

My alarm rings, but I don't need to get up just yet. I had such a restless night of dreams, so I sleep some more, and I dream I'm looking at ads for a house at the beach. (Yeah, right. First I need to dream up some $$.)

I get off a train and walk on a quiet road and see many houses. They're very nice, but all out of my price range, so I walk along and the houses get smaller, closer together, shackier. The road turns to dirt and stones, and then the trailers start - the camp trailers on wheels with screens for walls. Inside, people sweat on sleeping bags with beach towels on a clothesline above them. (Finally, something I can afford!)

And then (you know how dreams work), I have a big, bright, red air-mattress. I drag it over to a grassy patch where folks are having a picnic, and suddenly I realize how good I look! I'm fit, my hair is glistening, the sunlight brings out the blue in my eyes - and, gosh, a stunner of a woman with black curly hair and a flowered halter dress sits down on the air-mattress with me. She speaks very little English - maybe she's Italian or French? But, ahem, I know her intent by the smile on her face and the way her eyes take a very slow trail down the length of my body. And what do you know? Three more beautiful women drop down on my red mattress. They're all friends, they speak to one another in a language I don't understand. The mattress is getting crowded. Yee-ha!

Then the polka band begins to play. (But of course!) Each woman wants to dance with me, and we are all a sensation on the dance platform! I partner with one of the three, and she speaks enough English to tell me she is from Spain, the Basque Region. She proceeds to give me a sophisticated lesson on the history of the Basque culture in perfect English, while I struggle with the polka steps. She can see it's too much for me - learning and dancing at the same time - and steers me up against a cinderblock wall. I'm ready for the kissing and smooching to come, and she's breathing heavily, but she says she can't kiss me. She turns her lower lip down, but I don't see anything. She says, "See?", so I look for a cold sore, or stitches from gum surgery or something, but her mouth looks just fine. I'm confused. I want to kiss her anyway.

And that's the end of the dream. Can you believe it? The dream is over! No chance to dance with the other women. No more bouncing on the air mattress. No more feeling of the cinderblock wall behind me.

What did you dream last night? I'm serious. xo j