Crazy Dream: How I Made an Escape Plan From a Cop Headquarters

Thank you Modern DIY Decorating for the image

Whenever I take naps, I have the craziest dreams. Here’s how today’s dream went down:

I was at a party when a friend came up to me and asked me if we had any booze. I told him sure and asked him what sort of booze he wanted to drink.

“Scotch. Or Whiskey.”

I checked the various bottles we had and there was a scotch bottle but it only had an inch left of liquid gold. I told him that I was going to run out and pick up a new bottle since I owed him a favor.

At the liquor store, I browsed through their nice liquor selection when I ran into two friends that are headed out to a party (possibly the same one I was just at). They recommend me a particular scotch bottle and we’re on our way.

Dream skips forward (I don’t remember if I had actually picked up a scotch bottle or not.)

I had left the store and was heading back to the party when I spotted an old acquaintance that was now a homeless person. He recognized me and asked me for change. I took out a $10 and told him it was the largest bill that I had (I actually had a couple of $20s in my wallet but I didn’t know what he was planning on doing with the money). When I handed him the money, I felt a bad that I had assumed he would use the money for ill purposes because he looked at me so gratefully. I decided to ask him how he ended up on the street and we started walking. He mentioned that the old bar/restaurant that he worked in either a) went down in flames or b) they went out of business (can’t remember which was the reason) but the bar/restaurant wasn’t there anymore. At this point, we were hanging out in a dead end alley way as he was munching on some leftover pizza. The homeless guy asked me if I wanted to hang out in his car and I said sure. He started driving and we’re continuing our chat when two guys hop in the car, squishing me into the center. I start freaking out as they mention that the cops are on their tail. My homeless friend says that it’s no big deal and that he’s lost the cops before. As we’re approaching the exit of the public garage we’re in, a bunch of employees are spaced out in front of the exit structure and tell us that we cannot pass. Of course, my homeless friend doesn’t heed of their warning and drives on through. Thankfully, some of the employees jumped out of the way and no one was hurt while we careened through the exit. We noticed that were some cop cars ahead trying to cut us off. I start thinking about how screwed we were and that I didn’t want to go to jail for being a good samaritan.

Dream skips forward

We’re deep in this super fancy cop headquarters. The area that we’re in is set up like the letter “C”.  The office is super posh with the dividers made of glass and the walls being a nice beige color. At this point. we haven’t gotten caught by the cops but they’re still searching for us. I don’t want to go to jail for a crime that I didn’t commit and I make the decision of ditching the group. Of our group, there is a homeless guy and two very nervous looking guys. I’m the only one that is nicely dressed and I figure the cops won’t be searching for someone with my description.

I start walking down one of the halls and locate my chance to freedom. It was a customs area where you have to show your id, and then you’re free to go on your way. I head back into the original room to locate my wallet. I notice this short, pretty Mexican girl had casually taken my bag and was going to make off with it.  I nicely tell her: “Oh! I think my purse fell into your bag.” Realizing she was caught, she let me search through the bag until I found my wallet. As we’re ready to head out, a couple of cops come in. They’re all joking as they’re heading back to their cubicles. Somehow, the Mexican girl and I end up in a conversation with two cops and we both don’t want to get caught (her for stealing my bag and me for being around during the previous crime) so we gleefully play along as we’re making up this bs story:

Mexican girl: “I’m so and so”. (She states her name to the cops so I can use that information in my half of the made up story.)

Me: “(fill in name) es mi hermana. I was the one adopted into her family.” (Speaks more Spanish to my fake sister.)

Female Cop: “Aw, you must be a great younger sister.”

Me: “Of course. I’m the best!”

This conversation is going on for awhile and we’re really amazing at bs story telling. We’re just about to say good bye to the cops and leave the room when I wake up.

I kind of wished I had known what happened afterwards. I hope I was able to make it out of customs area and head back to the party.

 

How To Get Laid

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The Carolina Sunday Dodgeball Special

Last Sunday, I played dodgeball. Back in NY, I had played on a weekly basis when I was a Crunch Fitness member. I learned of this new dodgeball session during a drunken discussion with my friend’s friend. I then vowed that I would make it to the next dodgeball showdown.

First tip: do not wear anything short, like a tank top even if you have a jacket over it. The gravel that you are playing on shows no mercy. It is best to wear long fitting jeans with knee pads (not necessary but great for any potential falling or skidding on the hard surface) and a not-so baggy shirt so it does not open up like an umbrella when you are on the go.

Second, if you have bangs or long hair, headbands are the shit. Better to wear a headband than to get whacked in the face due to your limited peripheral vision.

Third, stretch. And when I say stretch, your muscles should feel like melted butter or you will be retardedly sore the following day, so sore that your muscles scream in pain with every little movement you make and you’ll be wanting a nurse to help you wipe your butt after it takes five excruciating minutes to sit down on the toilet.

Fourth piece of advice is to remember is to bring water. Hydration is crucial and your body will graciously thank you after the two hour grueling match.

Fifth, wet dodgeballs are suck. When you try to throw them, they like to spin out of your hand and make you weaponless so dry that mother fucker and game on.

And sixth, have fun. The reason why adults still play dodgeball is because when you eat enough of your veggies and you grow up big and strong, the game is way more intense and just that much more awesome.

That night, there were a total of twelve players with me being the only girl. We got separated into two teams of six. Each team started off by touching the warehouse wall and then running towards the shiny dodgeballs sitting by the imaginary center line. Head shots are not acceptable and if you catch a ball in midair or one that bounces off something or someone before it hits the ground, the thrower was out and the catcher could bring a teammate back in. Also, if you are holding a ball and someone from the opposing team knocks it out of your hands, you are still in. And we have our special ‘one on one’ rule. When only one person from each team is left, the two remaining players can cross the imaginary center line and whack their opponent. This gets gruesome for a lot of the games ended with the players being four feet away from each other.

I was the weakest link and I will admit that I do not have the strongest throwing arm. But I did have some fucking awesome dodges. During the beginning of one of the games, as I was walking back from the initial sprint, the opposing team threw three balls at me, one after another. My teammates yelled at me to watch out and I dodged all three and I got back to my side safe and sound. There was plenty of hooting and hollering.

I had a couple of other awesome dodges that made my back curve in weird ways that I had never attempted before. During the last match we played: the pride match, I was somehow the last person left on my team. It was me vs. three guys and all I could think of was ‘Oh shit.’ I was able to divert three balls and I dodged one more before I got taken out. I did not win the game but I felt it did not end too shabby.

On a quick recap of personal injuries, during the first game, as I was sprinting towards the ball, I collided into the opposing dodgeball member and smacked my left knee in the gravel (I obtained a nice bruise from that). Another injury happened during one game when I was moving back from the sprint and I crashed into a teammate of mine and fell. There was a third incident where as I was scrambling back to get a ball and the gravel gave way under my shoes and I slipped and fell. My jacket and tank top slid up so the gravel had easy access to my back.

I’ve got to say, I love dodgeball. At the end of this fierce battle, even though I was purely exhausted, my adrenaline was still pumping like crazy and I felt I had proved myself worthy to be hanging with the guys. Shit, I can’t wait until next Sunday.

*Come to Carolina St between 15th and 16th at 10pm on Sundays. This sport is not for the faint of heart. We also have a facebook group. Search for “Carolina Street Dodgeball.” See you there.