I had night sweats again last night. Ugh. I had to get up and change my shirt and underwear at 3:54 am. I managed to settle back in to sleep afterward, but I had to use the heating pad to prevent myself from getting the chills and starting the cycle all over again. My body isn't adapting well to the change in seasons and is having trouble thermo-regulating. I blame that and the springtime hormonal response my body goes through, unbidden, for my thinly veiled, semi-erotic dream last night.
My former co-worker, Sal Mendez, an automotive prodigy of the highest order was in rare form attempting to mentor me as I made my way through some situation which required his expertise. There is an underlying prison-style male homosexual dominance thing that goes on in the testosterone-driven automotive world, and Sal was a charming bastard with Socratic seduction techniques. It didn't help that he was good looking, genuinely helpful and an actual nice guy. I felt myself responding to his non-overt overtures because of his sheer magnetism.
In this dream, I was walking somewhere and needing some kind of assistance. Sal appeared out of nowhere offering help, like the devil usually does in these situations. I was in no position to be picky and gladly let him walk beside me and we discussed whatever my trouble was, something automotive-related, I'm assuming, but I can't be sure because I was soon distracted by a lot of random snakes that kept appearing in our path.
As in all things, Sal had a wealth of knowledge of snakes, and he expounded on the various types of snakes and their activities as we encountered them. I pointed out a pair of king snakes that looked like they were about to become amorous, as they were intertwined in a rather suggestive posture.
Sure, I can spot a metaphor a mile a way, as could he, and he just laughed as we continued to discuss my problem and snakes in a very general and non-sexual way. But I knew and he knew that he was a master at playing the long game, so he was in no hurry to make some kind of crude reference which might have spooked me. Damn his subtle ways, anyhow.
The next thing I knew he was taking my car out for a test drive, the problem having been fixed, the car perfectly restored and then some. It was a vintage S2000 that had a rare rear seating area in place of the convertible top. It was painted a sickly chartreuse color that was reminiscent of a 20s era Bentley and had era appropriate fender flares and chrome trim, which it somehow pulled off despite not really fitting the modern sports car motif.
I jumped in the back just as he was pulling away. I wasn't quite sure if he was trying to jack my car or if he was just taking an innocent test drive, but I wasn't taking any chances. He seemed gentlemanly enough, driving the car at respectable speeds and not doing anything the least bit out of line, so I once again felt myself falling under his easy spell. I never felt the least bit uncomfortable, a fact with which I am a bit uncomfortable and, frankly, reluctant to report.
As per dream protocols, nothing actually "happened," but all the cues were in place and I have to be honest, there was a level of arousal despite my homophobic societal conditioning. Anyways, sometimes snakes are just snakes, but Sal being on the prowl, well, that is just a force of nature.
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.