I'm not even going to attempt to
interpret this one. Suggestions welcomed!
I was on an
LIRR platform waiting for the
westbound train to the city, and according to the
schedule it was going to be a while until my
train came. I knew that the train now arriving was headed
eastbound, but I
followed the crowd and planned on
boarding with them anyway.
I round the corner to find a giant white limo instead of a train. I shrug, hey, why the hell not..and climb into the backseat. The inside is set up in rows of seats as opposed to the normal open seating, and I climb into the backseat by my lonesome. The rows in front of me are pairs of business people, chatting away about their usual nonsense.
The driver gets on the highway and accelerates up to 60 mph. As he nears a sharp curve, the suit in front of me exclaimed, "Yeah! 60! That's how it should be!" As we start turning the curve, I realize we're not gonna make it. I whip out a survival manual and start reading about what I should do when the car goes over the ledge: undo seat belt, hold on to something, make sure the door is unlocked, as the car crashes toward water...
Too late. The car breaks through the railing on the side and starts plummeting towards the water below it. We fall past a lower roadway of the highway, down towards a deep, large pool of water encased in concrete walls. As the car crashes into the water, I open the door and climb towards it, but I still get sucked underneath with the car. However, since I was already halfway out i'm able to get free. I let go of a suitcase I'm trying to take with me, and only then am I able swim to the surface.
People are leaning over the railing of the lower roadway, which is only a couple of feet above the top of the water. I swim to a the inside of the concrete wall, pull myself up onto a ledge, and then sit there on the railing, naked. A few people in the crowd are discussing whether they should go down and try to rescue people out from the car, but they decide it's way too deep and everyone else has probably already drowned. Many voices talking about what just happened, a few people looking at me, asking if I'm okay. I'm fine, not damaged, but I have to make repeated requests for someone to toss me clothing because it's cold and I'm wet and naked. Finally, someone tosses me some scrubs.
I'm taken to the hospital even though I'm not injured, and a room is assigned to me. I make an appointment for 1700 hours with a persistent therapist who wants to talk about the crash. My mother comes to pick me up to drive me to a friend's party. My friend has all this furniture that they're throwing away, and all of it could double as BDSM furniture so I stake my claim on an item or two, later deciding against taking it only because I really have no space for it at home.
At one point, I was laying across a wide medical exam table talking to nailbunny and I realized it was short enough for us to lay on it sideways. I stayed there stretched out for a while and flirted with her. Then it was time to head back to the hospital.
By the time we get back, I realize that it's 1745 and I'm late (me? late? heh!) for the shrink appointment. I get off the elevator and as I'm scurrying back to my room, I run into the shrink and she drags me into her office to talk. Once I was in her office, though, I felt the need to go leave a note for my mom in my room telling her were I was. As I'm trying to figure out how mention it to her my mom walks by, catches a glimpse of me through the window and comes in to acknowledge the fact that she knows I'm here. Instead of just popping her head in, though, she walks all the way into the office towards a couch, seeming as if she's going to stay. Her pants are falling down revealing ass crack and I'm embarassed, so I start telling her to leave and the shrink reinforces it. Finally she leaves, seeming a bit absentminded.
The shrink and I start talking about the accident. I feel fine, no survivor guilt. As we're talking, this shady-looking grungy old guy walks in. The shrink tries to chase him out but he's not budging, and he starts confessing to murders. The shrink starts drawing, trying to work some art therapy magic to help get the confession out, and I start flipping through a medical magazine to ease my boredom. I come across an article about wuukiee. It says the reason that her communication skills are so poor is because she spent the first three years of her life as a monkey. While militant guys come in and take the murderer out, I point the article out to the shrink. She tells me that I shouldn't hug wuukiee, but I insist that she's my friend and I'll hug her if I want to! Besides, I think wuukiee's so much cooler now that I know she used to be a monkey...it's not freaky at all. :)
Yet another interesting dream, interrupted by reality.