Thursday, September 16, 2004

What Is Orange and Yellow and Looks Good on a Hippie?

I just was permanently awoken from my sleep (a good four hours before necessary) by a very strange and upsetting dream. It all took place in the vicinity of a bar I work in in Athens, GA.

At first things seemed okay. People were hanging out after working, having some drinks, and everything was grand. Various people were there; employees, high school classmates, a historical figure, (regular dream appearance-makers) and oddly enough, and I am definitely not making this up: Wil Wheaton in his full Star Trek outfit.

In reality, Wil Wheaton sort of started the night on its downhill tumble. After stealing my "Frequent Roller Card" which entitles me to a free burrito at the burrito restuarant across the street from the bar, which I incidentaly ate a burrito from when I was at work, Wil threw the card to a bunch of pseudo hippie bums. One grabbed it, and after yelling some mildly coherent anti-capitalist propaganda got the sense beaten out of him by bouncers at the bar next door. They beat him until his eyeball fell out. I have never seen anyone get their eyeball knocked out of their heads, but I'm pretty sure it would be a lot like how it happened last night.

As I ran across the bar to break up the fight, all of the sudden a bunch of what appeared to be Mexican revolutionaries stormed the bar, dousing everything with gasoline, and sealing off the exits. Panic ensued, as did gun shots from the Zapatistas or whatever the hell kind of group wants to storm a shitty frat bar and burn it to the ground in a beautiful pyre of flip flops, swishy skirts and camo hats. If I had to guess based on their conduct alone, I would say they were probably ex-employees, except I know that the owners of the bar would never hire non-white employees.

The point of the dream, as I see it is this: I know that there happens to be a fire door that is no longer in service on the top floor of the bar. I could choose to either alert as many bar patrons as possible to this fact and risk being shot by the siegers, or just run to the upstairs and never look back. I woke up right before making my decision.

Is this dream a subconcious effort to make me decide whether or not I want to hold on to this job or look for other employment? Is this my mind's way of saying that too much violence, blood, anger, sweat, deceit and intimidation surround my work environment, and that I am over educated and underpaid for the stupid people and ridiculous scenarious I have to endure? Or is the dream about my own desire to help people being outweighed by my desire for self-preservation? Or is it a commentary on how the inevitable end result of commerce and capitalism, in its truest sense, is bloody revolution, and a perspective on the necessity for Everyman to decide between attempting to preserve the status quo, and risk the personal consequences therein, or preserve oneself at the risk of allowing the system, and thus other people's way of life, perish. Or is it only just a way of telling me not to let Wil Wheaton hold my "frequent burrito eater guy" card? I always suck at self evaluations.