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Lucid in London
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1647
I leave for the lunch shift today, they don't need me. So I go downstairs to sleep, I can't go home, there's contractors, there will be no sleep had there other than by them.... The owner's in a foul mood, it's cheque-writing day, and as I try to sleep I can hear all the goings on in the restaurant, the medley of banging pans and Italian curses, it's not the best place to nap, but somehow I manage it...
I'm in London, not London, walking the streets, making a map....
I realize I'm dreaming, this is Lucid, the sounds of the restaurant keep me from falling completely asleep...
I'm on an ancient cobbled street, fine, small row houses, grotesque gargoyles and ornaments, the mood is drear but there's a heightened sense of reality, every gargoyle is different, and as I'm making a map I note that this place hasn't changed, I must take the boy....
now it's a lucid dream and so I wake myself to make my notes.....
....and I'm unrolling a roll of rice paper-parchment, adorned with printed courtesans, I write upon the paper (yellow light), the ink bleeds into the paper, I return to the dream....
The same street I just left, the same as I left it, and I'm walking....a horologist, a bright tree in front, a stump, embellished with watch dials and crystals, broken wares advertising his trade, and I pull aside a crystal to check the dial, it looks like a good make even if it's broken...
Walking through London not London, making my map, there's a festival of sorts, it's evening, and I walk up, people, South American, this is different....
.....and I wake again, knowing this is a dream, make my notes upon parchment....
The din above is too much, and I awake from this again, perplexed, in the squalor of the restaurants basement, the lucidity was real, but the waking was into another dream...
Everyone's Frank
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1893
"Regular Customers", as they style themselves, frequently confuse the staff who've been there a while.
Sometimes I'm called Frank, after the old Franco who left a year ago. I let it slide, I don't care
And so is G, but he cares, sometimes he's served these people for years "I'm not Frank" he tells them, "I'm G..."
The customers call me over when G is out of earshot "Is Frank upset about something?" they ask.
"You know, Italians....." I explain with a shrug.
Contractors (continued)
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1778
Today arrive home to the smell of fresh paint.
The bathroom, finally, has been painted.
Monday he installed some ready-made cupboards from Ikea. Then splashed white undercoat on the sides.
Tuesday he installed the doors to the ready made Ikea cupboards. One is hung crooked, the other straight.
Today he painted the bathroom, in the process removing the hung-straight cupboard doors and leaving the hung-crooked.
I've been putting the pressure on, inquiring if I might expect to have a sink by the weekend, probably, possibly, he assures me, but not in time to actually do all the last minute cleanup, reorganize toothbrush, razor, etc. That will have to wait until Sunday.
And I've come to see through his line about "Other Contracts" - if he had other contracts, surely he'd take his tools? Yet they're there, cluttering up the office, the stairwell, everywhere in fact....
There are no other contracts. This is it. And, easy as it is (an hour's work a day, tops) - it's too much. There's no way he'll tile the kitchen floor.
But in it's own fucked up way it's been an inspiration, all I need is 2 days off and I too can be a contractor, bill $5000 for 16-24 hours worth of labour and $1000 dollars (tops!) worth of materials.
I need only close my eyes...
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1830
for the phone to ring. It's a superhuman ability, this, close my eyes, the phone rings...
If I keep them open in only rings every few minutes, the last-minute office manager delegated the chore of finding an up-market venue for their Christmas Party, Friday or Saturday night would be perfect, a quiet area if we have it...
I can barely suppress my laughter. Not a chance, I tell them, I can get them in at 5:00 if they promise to leave by 6:00, the news doesn't go down so well, we've been booked for a month already....
So it goes. Weekends until 1:00 in the morning, weeknights until late and later, no days off until Christmas...
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