I dreamt last night (or this morning) that I stopped at Ted&Paula's, a local liquor, store before a road trip. Some new management had turned it into a some kind of convenience store/flea market. All the stuff they were selling outside was just stacked in open cardboard boxes. Some of it was across the street.
I stopped to look for Gatorade and underwear, two essential road tripping items. First I checked "the clothing section" outside, but to my dismay, no underwear. They were sold out. Maybe there were a lot of road trippers today.
Annoyed I went inside to find a thirst quenching beverage. I remember I really wanted a blue one - specifically the baby blue one that says "Frost" on it. After what seemed like hours of searching in such a tiny store - it felt like dozens of people kept asking me questions like I worked there, and I was distracted by some imitation brand baseball caps - I finally located the Gatorade. Except the Gatorade was not in the freezer, but hanging on a rack in an aisle adjacent to the freezer. And not only was it out of place - at least in my opinion - but it was re-bottled... and all the bottles were filled to different levels... but they were genuine Gatorade bottles - with the labels torn off - priced at an expected Gatorade bottle price. Oh, and they didn't have baby blue.
Needless to say without finding new underwear or safe Gatorade, I spoke something smart-ass to the clerk/new management and swifted myself out of there.
As I made my way across the street to where I had parked near the underwear - or lack thereof - "display," I crossed a former art professor, Jim Gogswell. Coincidentally he was also there looking for underwear, and not having found it, he was on his inside to put up a fuss.
Then my cousin called and woke me up to ask me to make him an email address.
I stopped to look for Gatorade and underwear, two essential road tripping items. First I checked "the clothing section" outside, but to my dismay, no underwear. They were sold out. Maybe there were a lot of road trippers today.
Annoyed I went inside to find a thirst quenching beverage. I remember I really wanted a blue one - specifically the baby blue one that says "Frost" on it. After what seemed like hours of searching in such a tiny store - it felt like dozens of people kept asking me questions like I worked there, and I was distracted by some imitation brand baseball caps - I finally located the Gatorade. Except the Gatorade was not in the freezer, but hanging on a rack in an aisle adjacent to the freezer. And not only was it out of place - at least in my opinion - but it was re-bottled... and all the bottles were filled to different levels... but they were genuine Gatorade bottles - with the labels torn off - priced at an expected Gatorade bottle price. Oh, and they didn't have baby blue.
Needless to say without finding new underwear or safe Gatorade, I spoke something smart-ass to the clerk/new management and swifted myself out of there.
As I made my way across the street to where I had parked near the underwear - or lack thereof - "display," I crossed a former art professor, Jim Gogswell. Coincidentally he was also there looking for underwear, and not having found it, he was on his inside to put up a fuss.
Then my cousin called and woke me up to ask me to make him an email address.
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