Monday, March 19, 2012

Dream A Little Dream

I had a dream the other night. It was weird. Not the part that I had a dream. I mean, I'm sure I dream every night, but I don't remember most of my dreams. No, the weird part was the dream itself. I know some people dream very vividly quite often, but I am not one of them. Occasionally I'll wake and remember my dream and while it may have a strange part in it, it's not like I'm dreaming that I'm a chameleon on a rug and that I blend into the rug and nobody can see me, which is a dream my sister-in-law once had. No, it's more like I'm dreaming that I'm running errands and instead of being in my own van I'm in a van that's different but I know that it's my van. What I'm trying to say here is that most of my dreams are rather like my life--average and not very exciting. (I'm not complaining. There's a lot to be said for average and a noted lack of excitement, really.)

But this dream I noted not only because I remembered it the next morning, but also because it was just so darn strange. I need a Joseph-esque dream interpreter to tell me what it means. Would you like to hear about it? Too bad. Here goes:

I walk into the Subway shop down the street from my house. I'm alone and I just want a turkey sandwich. I know exactly what I want on my sandwich because I always get the same thing every time. (See? Average. Not exciting.) I'm going to order a turkey on nine-grain wheat with American cheese, lettuce, onion, green pepper, cucumber, and mustard. I won't ask for chips or a drink. I just want to order my sandwich and get going, because in my dream I know that I have to be somewhere else soon, but I'm not certain about where it is I have to go.

I step up to the counter to order, and I notice that instead of the usual family that are the owner/operators of the shop, two new people are behind the counter. Standing there, ready to take my order is Christopher Moltisanti, and next to him is Paulie Walnuts. (Both in Tony Soprano's crew on The Soprano's.) Christopher asks me for my order. He says it politely, but I can tell he's agitated, as if there's something happening somewhere and he's missing it. I stand there non-plussed, because, well, there's a Mobster asking to take my order at my local Subway. I shake it off and step forward. I am the only customer in the place and suddenly I am very nervous. I don't want to do something to make this guy mad because, hey, I've seen him whack people and I don't want to be next. Part of me wonders if he is in the Witness Protection Program and they've relocated him to Fishers, Indiana of all places. I calm my jitters and order my sandwich exactly the way I want it.

Meanwhile, Paulie Walnuts is standing down the line in front of the condiments. He's leaning on his hands against the counter and he's chewing gum. He's watching me but doesn't say a word. I offer a timid smile.

Christopher gets the bread ready and puts on the turkey and the cheese and passes the sandwich to Paulie. Paulie gives me a long look and then looks down at the sandwich as if he's considering something. I don't know what. Probably if he wants to whack me. Which makes me jittery again. I quietly repeat what I want on my sandwich.

"No," Paulie says. "What you want is a little salami with that. And some provolone. You need some pepperoncini and some olives. And mustard won't work here. You need some vinegar and oil."

I feebly protest that I just want my turkey sandwich.

It does no good. Paulie goes on throwing whatever he wishes onto my sandwich while Christopher looks on with a little triumphant smirk.

Finally, Paulie Walnuts finishes my sandwich and hands it to me. I quickly think that I will pay for the sandwich, leave the store, throw it away, and find another Subway to get my usual turkey sandwich. I just know that I want to leave. Now.

As I take the sandwich Paulie says, "Try it."

"Oh, that's okay," I respond quickly. "I'm sure it's very good, but I have to go."

"Try it!" He says again. This is no suggestion.

I nervously take a nibble. Black olives and pepperoncini are not my favorites.

Paulie and Christopher look at me expectantly. "It's good, right?" Paulie says in his Jersey accent.

And then I wake up.
Seriously, what does this even mean?

I don't know if I liked the new sandwich because I woke up before I could find out. Does it mean I should try something new at Subway, or am I simplifying things? Should I be trying new things in my life? Because, really, I'm comfortable in my average, non-exciting life.

I just don't know.

What I do know, is that next time I go into that Subway, if I see someone from the Soprano's behind the counter I'm turning around and running out the door.

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