I miss blogging these dreams regularly. Let me know if you want to continue reading them.
Last night I dreamt an interesting and strange dream. In the beginning, I went to an arcade with my grandfather (Duane Baughman). This arcade was much different from any arcade in the real world. It was fancy, like a high class hotel. There were great chandeliers, snazzy carpets, and and modern pieces of artwork placed about this three-story play place. There were waiters bringing people drinks and h'orderves. People were dressed nicely. Even I was wearing black slacks a white button-up shirt, a black vest, and a bow tie.
There were many fun games, and I had about fifty tokens to spend. I soon found my little brother playing a basketball game, and I wanted to join him (there were two hoops so that people could compete against each other). He had already put his tokens in, but I slid mine in quick enough so that I could join. The game cost three tokens; however, when I inserted the third, it told me if I wanted to apply that as credit to a future game. Apparently somebody had left a token in the game. I turned and saw Chuck Zook approach me, looking quite upset (his nostrils were flaring).
He came up and shoved me out of the way and began to play the game that I paid for (mostly). He said he had accidentally put four tokens into the slot. I then replied that I had paid two for that game and, because I wanted to play my brother, I was willing to give him a token to replace the one he had lost. He wouldn't listen and began to shoot basketballs as they fell down from the gate. I tried to get in front of him, but he kept pushing me out of the way.
Frustrated, I turned and left. However, it seemed that Chuck wasn't finished with me, for he rushed at me, fist clenched and eyes wild. He 'punched' my jaw (really, he just placed his fist on my face without too much force, which I thought was strange). He then picked me up and began hitting my back. All the while, I had my hands raised in the air, showing that I was not involved in this fight so that I wouldn't get kicked out of the awesome arcade.
Soon enough, some hefty guys in white suits came and carried Chuck away. He continued yelling at me; I could even hear faint cries as he was hauled past the thick metal doors that led out of the plaza.
I shrugged it off and Mike and I went to the second level. We found my Grandpa playing a Donkey Kong game and getting really into it (jumping up and down, shouting, etc.). After he lost that game, he went to the next game (a speed boat racing game) and joined a complete stranger (a heavy Italian man), who looked annoyed that somebody had joined his game.
Mike and I then continued to walk around. We found a hidden exit On the third floor that led out to the docks. It was dark and damp and dimly light, and a thick fog slowly moved through the atmosphere. As we walked, Mike asked me about the latest short story I had written, which was about a deranged fisherman who battled mutated fish men. We then entered another building, which ended up being yet another part of the grand arcade, though this part contained hotel rooms as well as arcade games for people who had come to game for several days.
Mike and I split up, and I went and explored some of the hotel rooms.
I found one door open to a room, and I entered. It was more like an apartment, or, at least, a more permanent place of residence. There were pictures on the wall, a large refrigerator with children's drawings, and other nicknacks. There were three young children present, but no parents.
The oldest of the three, a young girl wearing an eloquent dress, approached me and welcomed me into their home. She began showing me some of the pictures and describing the back story to each one. Then she opened up the fridge and invited me to partake in the family's food. She said her mother wouldn't mind. All the while I was a bit nervous, for I didn't want the mother to walk in on me alone with her kids, for that wouldn't look too good (though I had no bad intentions).
Then the younger boys began playing a game of tag, and I joined in. It was such fun, and I felt like I was a young child. Suddenly, the mother walked in. I was startled, but to my surprise, she was not angry with me. She was just as kind as her daughter, and she thanked me for entertaining her kids while I was gone.
As she talked to me about how the father had left them, the youngest boy managed to get into the trash, covering himself with spaghetti sauce in the process. He was a mess. I soon found out that he was still in the mindset of tag, for he ran up to me and slapped my leg (still covered by nice black slacks) with a hand covered in red sauce. It would surely stain. The mother then ran and grabbed some honey and poured it on my pants, saying that honey prevents red foods from staining. I believed her.
Then, as I was about to depart, the youngest boys came and gave me a hug. It was then that I noticed that both the boys had small red spots all over their bodies, for they had chicken pox.
I left the room and wandered outside for a while. I found a concrete building and entered it.
There I found Kevin Chupp. He was bouncing around very high into the air, as if there were no gravity. He came and told me to hop on his back, which I did. Together we bounced and floated for several seconds. It was a great feeling. We continued to do this down a long concrete hallway (the ceiling of which was fifty feet high, which we almost hit). We found a group of young adults taking a group picture and joined them.
As we smiled for the picture, Chuck Zook, followed by a bunch of dancers, entered the hallway. Chuck was singing and snapping his fingers as his followers danced behind him and occasionally repeated his lines.
He looked at me with eyes that proclaimed, "See what I have now, Joe?" I thought it was ridiculous, and Kevin agreed, so I climbed again onto his back, and we hopped our way further down the hallway.
At the very end of the building, we found Kevin's parents (Ken and Diane), and his younger sister (Kelli). They were taking turns running on an old-school treadmill (one that was only powered by friction). It looked like fun, so I took a turn. I was doing pretty well, running at very high speeds. I got a bit arrogant and began doing the grapevine on it, which impressed Ken. My turn was soon over, and I got off and watched Kevin sprint on it.
When he was done, I climbed onto his back and we went back down the hallway.
Then I awoke.
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