about two weeks ago now, i had a dream.
my partner and i were running a bed and breakfast. austin city limits (ACL, which usually happens about this time of year) was in town and we were hosting lots of musicians and fans for the festival.
now, we were running a pretty modest b&b, so when we looked at the roster, we were quite surprised to see "Sir Paul McCartney" as a guest arriving that day. apparently, the ACL organizers had a mix-up and forgot to book a VIP hotel suite for him.
so paul mccartney arrives at our house, complete with his entourage. he was nice and all, and complained about being tired, so we showed him to his room. i kept calling him "sir paul," which made me cringe. i've always thought he was the "boring beatle." just as he was settling in, he kept flirting with me--touching my arm, calling me "hun" and "love" and looking at me quite intently with those droopy eyes. man, this guy must be getting murder through his divorce! i thought. but i wanted to be professional about it, so i asked if he needed anything. he said he wanted water. i went to our pantry to get him a bottle of water, only to find we had run out. so i go back to "sir paul" who had started dozing off on his bed and told him, no we didn't have bottled water, but we had filtered water. i then said, i know he's a singer, so i thought be might be particular about that type of thing. he said, yeah, i'd prefer bottled. so then i asked, any particular brand? and he said, no, as long as it's bottled. then, as i turned to leave, he said, wait, i'll come with you! i rolled my eyes to myself but said, okay, "sir paul."
there was a convenience store just two blocks from the house. "sir paul" kept chatting me up and flirting, which kept disturbing me, since i'm probably way more butch than him and he seems to usually like blond femmey types. but i wanted to still be the professional host. we walked into the convenience store, where i knew lots of the black women and latinas who worked there. i got a box of bottled water, but had to set it down because "sir paul" was getting rowdy with some folks in the street. when i returned to where i set down the water, it was gone.
knowing that the folks "sir paul" had harassed just stepped into the store i was in, i walked with "sir paul" down to another convenience store, that had a small cold-cuts station and lottery ticket cases. i bought a case of water, and asked the cashier to look after it while i located "sir paul" in the store. i heard some other ladies talking about him. when i finally found him, the cashier had re-sold my water to someone else, and the water case was empty. then i walked up to the lady behind the bakery counter, who i apparently knew, and told her: you know what this means, right? they always sell out of water when a war happens. i think we've invaded iran!
and the dream ended there. i'll leave it to you, my lovely readers, to interpret its meaning.