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I was alone, out in public and all I could think was “I need to go to church” but I didn’t know what time it was. I saw the church I used to go to a long time ago, until the youth pastor left. I saw the head pastor’s wife at the door but the church looked different and people were leaving and others were going in. I asked if I had missed the second service. She said yes but they have a new service starting in three minutes. She said “You saw the onion on the side of the box didn’t you?” I had no idea what she was talking about. She told me to go on in but this service was new and different. I said okay and went to look for a seat.

The church didn’t look like a church at all, more like the combination of a barn, a theater, and a church. I found a pew that had a just one woman sitting on it, on the opposite end. I sat down. The bench was a normal distance from the row in front of us but very far from the bench behind us. She scooted the bench with her feet until we were a normal distance from the bench behind us and the large empty space was in front of her. I felt very nervous and uncomfortable. She was talking to me, and scooted real close to me. The service seems to have started and I tried to pay attention but this woman was trying to have a conversation with me.

Up before us on the stage was a set that looked like a barn with a balcony and on the balcony was a man singing the country song “There goes my life.” Below him was some people acting out the song. The woman kept jabbering on. Then a man who could easily be described as a redneck came up and started talking to us and wanted to sit down so the woman grabbed my arm and pulled me down just enough for the man to sit on the other side of me. I felt very out of place and frightened. Both people were sitting very close to me and people throughout the room were coming and going and talking as if we weren’t in church and there wasn’t a performance going on.

Suddenly the man grabs my arm and swings me up and over around his head like I weighed almost nothing. Everyone that noticed didn’t seem to think this was at all out of the ordinary. I tried to scream but nothing came out, which I then felt relief because one shouldn’t scream in church. Then again, one should be spun in the air by some strange man either. He sat me down and I rubbed my arm and then he picked me up and swung me around higher and faster and as he did I heard him tell the woman sitting behind us with her well behaved children something along the lines of “I didn’t mean to shock the poor girl”.

When I was coming in I had run into a cop which I knew. At the time I thought he was the cop that was stationed at my high school but looking back I realized he was the officer from that show 7th Heaven. Now he was on the stage singing with the man singing “There goes my life”.

I woke up to the very end of the song that was sung in my dream feeling confused and needing to get this written.

If there is such a thing as an LSD flashback I have mine while I'm sleeping. Not all the time. Most of my dreams are quite forgettable, and promptly forgotten. Maybe I'm counting rope, or falling, or watching my soul carried away on a platter.

Normal stuff. But every once in a while I have a dream sufficiently bizarre as to be worthy of PeeWee's Playhouse. This was one of those dreams.

My dream began in an alley lit by flashing neon signs. We're out clubbing, my buddy and I. You can hear the buzz, people talking, couples flirting. My buddy gives me the thumbs up, it's going to be a Big Night. Then I look again and see I'm out with William Shatner.

That's right, William Shatner, I'm out clubbing with the Man himself, the dude who does the painful writhing scream and got Nichelle Nichols in a lip lock, not to mention Joan Collins a few dozen other scantilly clad alien girls.

Only we aren't on Armeniar 7, we're on Earth. This Earth, this day, this year. Reality baby. Bill, (I can call you that, can't I Mister Shatner?) grins at me and cuts past a whole line of people right to the bouncers.

"You can't come in."

The bouncer is big, bald and has spent more time in a gym than Hans and Franz combined. He crosses his arms over his rather immense chest. "No way I'm letting you in."

Bill, (I'm calling him that no matter what he thinks) harrumphs, adjusts his toupee and marches on. There's a bar right down the road, lots of people inside, dancing, drinking, carousing. We reach for the handle on the glassed doors.

Locked. Bill pulls, but they won't move. A man arrives and slides a thick timber down into a specially grooved latch. They don't want us.

Shatner's pissed now, really steaming, but he turns on that 'A Piece of the Action' smile, the same one he tried when he hammed it up as a pretend mobster.

There's another bar ahead, a thick rounded wooden door that looks like it came from Friar Tuck's residence. No admittance.

Finally we slip into a restaurant. The maitre'd is tall, thin with a John Waters mustache and the absolute certainty that he's well above you on the social food chain.

"Non, non, non," he intones in a Clouseauesque French accent. "You cannot be served here,"

Bill finally loses it. "But I'm Captain Kirk!" he bellows, arms outstreteched in utter exasperation. Nobody in the restaurant pays the least attention. The maitre'd merely shakes his head and points to the door.

Then were out on the street, alone. I can't get into the hip clubs even with Captain Kirk as my wingman.

Yes, I really dreamed this. Every couple years I dream up a doozey and this certainly qualifies.

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