Gregory Pettigrew (etherial) wrote,
Gregory Pettigrew

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Do anroid college students dream of electric beer?

Had a strange dream this morning that I thought I'd like to share:

I was leaving a friend's party and heading home for my apartment in the great city of Worcester. I left the building, and I suppose I was a little drunk, because the apartment building seemed to have been built where Institute Park was normally located. Anyway, I scurried along Salisbury Street trying to go *around* campus (which is really the dumbest idea you can have when walking in the WPI neighborhood, even if the damn thing is built on a hill), speed-walking to try and avoid a mugging. I stopped off at another friend's place on Boynton Street (again, where a parking lot is in real life). Zack was living there, though the place was more akin to the Sever Street place, but Zack didn't seem to mind, and I went off on my merry way after saying goodbye to Zack and Melissa, who happened to be there.

On my way down, I couldn't help but notice that the people living on the second floor of Zack's building were planning on jumping me the moment I got to the lawn. At this point, my head was clearing a little, so I wasn't afraid as I knew I was broke. Sure enough, they jumped me, and one got too close, so I punched him in the nose. I told them I was broke, showed them my empty wallet - even offered them my change, but they wanted to fight, so I thrashed them around a little.

Onto Highland Street I went. I'm pretty sure someone tried to mug me here, too, but that attempt was also thwarted. I finally got to Einhorn Street, where my last apartment was, and turned in, finding, of all things, my first apartment building where my last was supposed to be (they're only a couple buildings apart and both are brown, so I suppose it's not that strange for a dream.) I cleverly decided to use the rear entrance, and had some difficulty, because the bottom of the door was 3 feet off the ground and I needed to use the key to pull myself up to the point where I could grab the hand-holds.

It was on the successful try that the guy who lived on the second floor of my building decided that *he* would try and mug me. Finally pissed off, I gave him a good left hook with my plastic cup full of booze. It looked like whiskey, but something about it made me think it had vodka. I ran up to my apartment and locked the door, but I knew it wouldn't hold back a determined mugger (not that I had really met any tonight), so I decided to call the police. I don't really remember what I said to them as I stalked around my apartment, checking on the front stairs (full of garbage), and considering using the small yip dog (right out of Gosford Park) as more ammunition when the dream ended.

Which just goes to show that if you're afraid that you'll get mugged, you will be.

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