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Margaritas with Layne

Dream | April 11, 2009

A Friday—my very last day of work. Tomorrow I was leaving for Hawaii. I needed to get my plane ticket.

Downtown San Diego. I was working for Layne of International Office Supply, which had actually been in Mira Mesa.

A little background: Layne gave me my first big break by promoting me from Graphic Designer to Print Production Manager and about doubling my salary. He'd come in during the night shift and I'd be working furiously away on the Docutech. Years later I came back to thank him but IOS had folded and was long gone.

Back to the dream. I was scurrying inside and out of the building, presumably taking care of some last-minute business. At one point I was at the curb admiring a red vehicle parked there. I think it was a Honda CRV. Not a car I would normally be interested in, but in the dream I wanted to buy it. A cute girl came out of the building and I asked her how much it was, how many miles. Eventually she told me it was a ‘94 with close to 200,000 miles on it, for $1800. My interest went flaccid at that point so I thanked her and went back inside.

Layne was relaxing on a large, comfy sectional couch watching TV. In the background the song Angelhead by The Supreme Beings of Leisure. We discussed what should be done with all my work—so many files! I suggested copying it to a hard drive and he suggested we have some margaritas, which sounded like a great idea. Rooting through the freezer turned up a bag of frozen strawberries. In the fridge some banana-orange juice would serve as a base. On the counter was a blender with a glass carafe.

The conversation turned to dinner and the choice between chicken and fish, both of which were in the freezer.

While I was mixing Layne came over and produced a tray like a flat baking pan which had a large fresh fish on it. It had been cut from nose to tail along the belly line, gutted and spread open like a book so that its fillets were the thick halves. Let's read up on fish, shall we?

Layne said it was a tuna but I countered that it was a halibut for reasons unknown.

An idea came to me while looking at that unusual fish presentation. Aliens abducting humans and preparing them in such a way for consumption. A vision of an angry housewife searching for her husband. She peeked under tents and then stood outside a dance hall with a rolling pin thinking he was dancing with another woman. Eventually she conceded that he had most likely been captured by aliens and eaten.

But I acknowledged the idea was cliched. Even though I hadn't told him what I was thinking, Layne agreed the idea was stale. Another idea occurred. Humans abducted and their knowledge drained from them. They were returned to earth without the ability to think or comprehend, mentally retarded quite severely. Nobody knew what they had gone through. Nobody suspected aliens had been involved until one victim's MRI revealed the sophisticated pattern of the brain drain. The involvement of some higher intelligence was theorized...

I still hadn't finished making the margaritas. A layer of ice cubes had mysteriously formed on the top. It was too high and would spill. The blender wasn't working. It was unplugged. I plugged it in and was about to push the button.

I woke up about then. After I finish writing this I'm going to make a margarita! Jennifer will be home momentarily and after a long day she'll want to chill out in a tropical way.

Here's the ingredients list:

Blend until smooth. Drink until buzzed.

UPDATE: The margaritas were delicious!

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