Snot Propositions

I had an amazing dream last week:

I was at a friend’s house. He wasn’t there, which was a relief. He didn’t love me and I didn’t want to deal with that. But his friends were there. They’re great. We decided to watch a movie.

I had this bowl of snot in my lap. I’d had a cold that week and there it all was. I was proud of my bowl. It glistened and jiggled and looked like tapioca. It was shiny, so I offered it to one of the friends.

This particular friend had piercing eyes. He stood very tall. I knew the second he looked at me I had done something wrong. But why? He took the bowl from me in disgust.

“You know what your problem is?” he told me. He was so angry. “You make these propositions.”

I wanted to cry. He’d gotten right to it. He’d seen right through me. I did make these propositions. Even worse, he’d thought I was making one right then and there. But I hadn’t meant to. I hadn’t even thought. I’d just had this awesome bowl of snot I’d wanted to share, that’s all.

I ran away to the bathroom. It was the bathroom of the house in Berkeley I’ve been crashing at. I desperately had to pee. I pulled down my skirt, but I was flustered and forgot to pull up my little black dress. The pee hit the dress and bounced off at all sorts of angles. I couldn’t stop because I had to go so bad. It gushed everywhere. It covered the room and my clothes.

I couldn’t let anybody find out, so I started stuffing my clothes in the bathtub. I had to wash them. The tub was already full of water. I had a lot of clothes suddenly. I kept throwing them in the water but there kept being more on the floor. I felt incapable.

But finally I was clean. I went to a third room. I think I was looking for my guitar. I wanted to sing to this girl I knew who had recently become a man. But instead Andrès pulled up to the window on stilts.

Andrès and I are going to South America together in a few weeks. I’d told him at the beginning of the dream that I would be upstairs, but he said he’d get to me anyway. He wanted to take pictures of me with his new camera. “I told you, girl,” he said from his stilts. He looked sly.

That was it. I woke up with the crushing revelation that I make propositions.

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