The last thing that I remember on Thursday morning before waking up is a dream. A dream with our Boss in it.
The Boss and I are going to some function, probably to spectate at a race, when I decide that I need to stop in to a bank to get some money. (Why I don't use the ATM is beyond the scope of this dream.) Miraculously there is no line and the teller takes me right away.
I have trouble writing out the first check, messing up the date and the year - writing 2300 instead of 2000. I void the check and, with difficulty, get the second check written, more or less, correctly. The teller asks to see some identification.
I open up my wallet and sequentially ask if the teller will accept, for identification, an EOS Aura trading card, an AIAA membership card, a HealthNet card, a Three O'Clock's Paintbox membership card, and a Blocxkbuster video store card. Each is met with a firm but polite "No".
I finally find my driver's license and, as I am handing it over to the teller, I notice that it is not my picture on the license. Instead it is the picture of an acquaintance of mine from the Frat House. So as I hand the driver's license over to the teller, I comment, "I guess I'm Vietnamese now".
The teller sees that the picture does not match the person and asks for another form of identification. I pull out some other card - I don't know what it is - but note that it has the picture of a DIFFERENT person on it.
Now the teller calls the bank manager over. And I respond with "I have a lot of money in this bank. You guys are making a lot of money off me. Don't piss me off or I'm going to change banks again. I've done it three times already."
This falls on deaf ears. The bank has suddenly become very crowded. All of those people who are usually ahead of you in line are now in the bank. But they are not in line - they are somewhat gathered around this teller's station - the only one that is open. I put my head down on the bank teller's counter and hold my head with both hands. I hear a metallic clanging sound approaching and I ask the Boss "Is that handcuffs that I hear?"
And he responds with "Yes, those are handcuffs. But you're going to like this. She has a HUGE nightstick."
After I am handcuffed, the Boss starts in "Thank God. I'm glad that you finally got him cuffed. This guy, who I don't who who he is, picks me up in his car and then just starts randomly rambling about things. He claimed that the NSA implanted listening devices and microchips in his head and that they tell him what to do. He claimed that space aliens had abducted him and performed experiments on him and that now he is under their control. He claimed that drag queens were trying to use him to protest against the use of sewer grates in streets - claiming that discriminates against drag queens and their ability to walk in high heels. This guy needs some help."
As I'm being led away, with the Boss following, the crowd in the bank has sympathized with the Boss. I hear comments from the crowd such as "Oh, you poor man. It must have been awful." and "How did you make it through that entire ordeal?"
Just as I am placed into the back of the squad car, I turn and whisper to the Boss, "Please make sure that you use my usual bail bondsman. He understands me and my needs."
The Boss responds with "Okay. You'll be out in a couple hours."