SBUX Partner Vengeance

While working at Starbucks in college I would regularly power nap during my breaks. Our location had the third largest morning rush in Seattle (just think about that) - and serving sleep deprived, self important, bitter office drones in spurts of ten thousand dillion can take it out of a person.

I can't remember if I was awake or asleep when I thought of this in the break room, but it has made me feel better when I'm helping ungrateful people ever since:

Reality: There was an especially catty, godless torture artist named Milea who would come in every morning during our peak rush asking for the most nightmarish latte imaginable. Not only did she want a variety of syrups, but she wanted them in fractions. For example: 2 and 3/5 pumps mocha, then 1 and 2/7 pumps vanilla, etc. In addition she would ask for half shots - give or take a half depending on the day. This all needed to be in a particularly logic and policy defying ritualistic order, and she would watch every step of her drink assuring that if you fucked up and gave her 1/1000 more or less of something she would have you start the whole shit-storm over again while she berated you as rude and incapable. She claimed to be able to taste the slightest inconsistency in her drink - though we all messed it up on purpose when she wasn't hawk-eying us and she never complained.

To make matters worse, she seemed to hate other women. Our best and fastest bar people were women, and without fail if a woman made her drink it was wrong. In fact, if a female partner even spoke to her she seemed compelled to complain to my male Assistant Manager - completely ignoring my female Store Manager. So, every time she came up to order we would switch out people at the bar just to accommodate this, fucking up our entire store's operation.

Unfortunately, I eventually landed on her short list of indentured servants worthy of making her Vile Concoction. I weathered it well, to the point where she did not force me to remake it once or twice in the year I worked there. I would happily set her drink on the end of the bar and say "A Tall Melia" signaling that all of us could finally relax because she would be leaving soon.

Dream: The morning is going normally. Melia shows up. I am called to the bar, forced once again to make that stupid drink that may as well manifest the shackles I could feel on my wrists and heart. I would go through the motions, Melia looking for the most insubstantial of fuck-ups so she could grind her dominant boot into my neck once again. It doesn't come. I do it perfectly. She can't and doesn't complain. She compliments my ability, smiles at me, even offers non-Starbucks small talk.

I walk over to the bar. I set down the drink, normally, gracefully. I call out "A Tall Melia". She glides away from the register, smiling. I smile back. Her hand reaches from her purse to the cup. Before she can touch it I slap the fucking shit out of that drink, throwing the cup off of the bar and splashing her goddamn bitch fuel all over the wall. I continue to smile. I win. She's probably exclaiming in some way. I don't care. Nothing she can say or do can take that from me. Fuck my job. Fuck that bitch. She can lick it off the floor. Whatever happens next doesn't matter.

It is the best goddamn dream I have ever had.

OLD: Diving from Robots in Scotland

This is from a dream journal I kept in high school. It is one of my favorites and though it was not a nightmare, it really messed up my day:

I was traveling over bright green, rolling hills with a close childhood friend Jake. The grass was very long and rolling in the wind. We reached the edge of a ridge with a high cliff at the end. At the bottom of the cliff were more rolling hills. Off to the side of us was a cliff that was slightly lower. On that cliff were a few other people, though the only notable person was someone I went to middle school with named Brad N. They were running up to the edge of the cliff, looking around to see if they were spotted, and then swan diving off the cliff.

I was confused. Jake explained that 'he must be close'. I did not know whom 'He' was. The floor behind us had a hidden platform elevator in it and He rose up behind us. I did not know who He was still, but Jake and I both sensed him and dove off the cliff. I remember hitting the ground face first. I woke up.

Radio Free Portland: Posterior Terrorism

David, illustrator and co-owner of über-blog Doodles MAXIMUM, approached me with an idea to blow up a radio tower in Portland, OR. It sounded like an intriguing idea, and he convinced me by explaining that he and a girl(?) blew one up yesterday and it was totally awesome. David, another friend named Adam - whom I believe was the 'technical guru' in this scenario - and I approached the red, skeletal radio tower on a strangely round and grassy hill that overlooked the downtown Portland area. For some reason we set the explosives near the top of the tower, and while we walked away Adam exclaimed the smoke could be seen 'from 75 miles away' even before the explosion. I remember the tower blowing up, and the ensuing panic to get away before anyone saw me there. David and Adam decided to drive home and play video games. Their house looked a lot like my house. I could hear them playing games and laughing in my house, and was puzzled as to why they were not worried. I decided to go jogging to create a few alibis. I don't jog while conscious.

I set off for downtown and stopped in at a retail store for fireplaces. I realized after about five seconds that no one would go fireplace shopping in running clothes, so when I was approach by a sales associate I said I was 'just browsing' and left.

I then decided I should go to a dorm. My girlfriend did not exist in this world where I blew up radio towers, so I thought I would visit some girl I knew. I don't know this girl in real life, but she had red hair. I thought we were flirting fine, but things got weird when she was a little too interested in my posterior. I kept telling her I was not interested in that sort of stuff but she kept telling me it was cool and I'd dig it. I promised I wouldn't. By this time I was much more concerned with my butt than my freedom.

My real life girlfriend woke me up and I thanked her for never wanting to go there. She rightfully laughed at me.

OLD: Advice from Lord Baltimore

I was recently reminded by my friend Krishna of a dream I recounted to him. I don't remember the context of the dream - I only remember the end.

The dream involved some sort of cliffhanger scenario. I was watching myself in a car(?). The scene faded to black, and a quote appeared as if I were watching a movie:

"Needs more salt." - Lord Baltimore

I think I woke up because I was extremely confused. I'm fairly certain neither salt or Lord Baltimore had anything to do with my dream.

I Was A Black Child With Pancakes

I was a four or five year old black child eating breakfast at IHOP or Denny's. I was eating with my new dream mom and dad. I did not order, but got a plate of pancakes covered in bacon and maple syrup. I was pretty happy, but my dream-dad was really mad that the waitress forgot to get me my gravy. I kept trying to tell him that it was OK, and that I thought I wanted gravy but this was actually just fine and gravy might be weird. He insisted that I need to understand it is the principle of the thing: he asked for gravy and we didn't get it. The older waitress never got close enough to ask for the gravy. My dream-mom was silent but in agreement with me.

The Black Lake

Sometimes when I am having a difficult time sleeping I close my eyes and imaging I am on a small boat, floating on a lake. It is usually a bright gray sky and the lake is blue or gray. It is nice and I can feel my body rocking back and forth.

Last night I was floating in my boat, and things were different than normal. I was on the edge of the lake, and there was a small cabin behind me with an orange dock light. Two other people were waiting for my row boat. The water was black and still. The first laid down in the boat and floated out over the lake. The water never moved. They floated away from the light and after a short time the boat came back empty.

I then got into the boat, knowing I normally sleep in the boat. I sat in the back of the row boat and floated out onto the lake. The black water still didn't move. I could see the light getting smaller and the silhouette of the last person standing on the edge of the lake waiting for my sleeping boat. I looked forward and a silent black wave was waiting to overcome me. The person on the shore could not see me. The dream ended before I touched the water.

OLD: Flapping to Levitate / Frustrated / Captain America

I have a memory of being able to levitate if I jumped as high as I could in one place and flapped my arms. I don't know how long I subconsciously believed this, only reflecting upon how absurd it was when I almost said it out loud when I was not quite a teenager.

When I was very young, I somehow thought I invented the word 'frustrated' as well. I can only attribute this to some delusional dream.

Probably more coincidence than dream delusion was when I found out my action figure that I named 'Captain America' was actually a super hero named Captain America. I still feel weird when I see that character. I don't plan on seeing the movie.