Something, something, naked cheeseburger and fries

 

My recollections have become more scant, so I'll have to just briefly report the basics and call it a day. 

Last night I had one of those naked dreams. I was somewhere in the suburbs, reminiscent of Orange County, living a car. I left the car briefly to urinate but had apparently forgotten to clothe myself before my little excursion. Some kids wandered by and also some nuns, who quickly gathered up the young ones to protect their innocent eyes from the distasteful sight of a naked homeless person urinating in a parking lot.

I tried to remedy the situation by offering the kids a toy battleship, but this didn't sit well with the nuns. They were now certain that I had some kind of evil plans to lure their young ones into a life of naked homeless debauchery. In my defense, when I looked down to check myself, I found that I was at least wearing some boxer briefs.

Still scantily clad, I made my way to a burger joint and stepped in line to order some food at the streetside walk-up window. No one mentioned my lack of proper attire. I guess the "no shirt, no shoes, no service" policy only applied to indoor dining. 

The fellow in front of me ordered a cheeseburger plate with fries and some other side, possibly a small salad. It looked delicious. When it was my turn to order, I fumbled around looking at the menu, but upon seeing the cheeseburger plate, I made up my mind.

"I'll take one of those," I said pointing to the other customer's order.

Just like that, the the proprietor whipped around and grabbed another identical plate from the counter and began to hand it to me. 

"Whoa, whoa, hold it," I said, "I'll have to get my wallet from my car." I still wasn't wearing any pants, hence, no wallet. 

I went back and got my wallet and eventually produced a credit card. The proprietor was a little perturbed, since he'd already handed off the plate to another customer.  It was a busy day at the diner, so I had to wait my turn again and reorder.

That's all folks. Just a naked cheeseburger dream, with a couple of nuns and kids tossed in the mix, nothing to get all Freudian over. I'd be more worried if I were Eugene Levy. (Ha. That was a reference to an unpublished draft of a rather embarrassing dream I had the other day. I'll publish it retroactively at some future date, so it will be buried among the older posts.)