It's a Dream, You Idiot

Grumpy - It's a Dream, You Idiot.

Last night I had a dream. I was hanging out with an old friend. Not old in age – she's younger than I am, but we've been friends for a long time. We're buddies. Mates. We do the kind of things buddies and mates do together. We phone each other up when we feel like a bit of a chat. Sometimes we go to the movies or out for drinks and talk shit. You know the kind of person. We all have them. They're easy to hang out with. They've known you for long enough that they've decided that your foibles are worth putting up with because you're a good egg. And you think they're a pretty good egg too. (Is that a thing? 'Good egg'? Do people say that or have I just made it up? It sounds like a thing. Must look it up...)

I don't recall exactly what my friend and I were doing in the dream, but I was quite shocked when she started rubbing herself suggestively against me. It was just not something I ever expected her to do... I'm going to have to give her a name, but not a girl's name in case I give her identity away or give someone else the wrong idea that it was them... let's call her Egg.

“Egg! What in the hell do you think you're doing?”

“I'm feeling you up, Grumpy. Feels nice, huh? You wanna fool around?”

I moved away. “No. We can't fool around. It's us. We're mates.”

“Mates can fool around. C'mon. Haven't you ever thought about us doing it? I have.”

Her arms were like tentacles, all over me. It was insane. What the hell did she think she was doing? There had absolutely never been any indication that this kind of thing was going to happen. Ever. We've been really, really drunk together and been on benders but had never done anything remotely resembling what was going on here. This was really shocking. What was she thinking?

“Come on Egg. Stop it. This is ridiculous. Stop it. Stop it! Get off me!”

“Stop being silly, Grumpy. It's not ridiculous – it's sexy. Here, give me your hand and -”

She totally made me feel her breasts, and although not altogether unpleasant it was just so utterly, utterly wrong. We're both in relationships... what was The Dreaded One going to say when she found out that Egg made me touch her on the boobs?

I realised with a kind of horror that it was more like Egg was feeling my hands with her breasts, and I was kind of paralysed, just unable to move properly away. Not only that but Egg was really getting into it.

It was the most awful thing ever. We were going to get into so much trouble if anyone found out... and yet... nice boobies...

“NononononononononononononostopitEggstopitatonceverybadthingswillhappen... your arse feels really nice, btw...”

“Mmm... mmmmmmm... touch me here, Grrrrrumpy. Ooh yeah, that feels so hot...”

“Seriously, no. This is so wrong. If The Dreaded -”

I was cut of by what can only be described as a voice-over. A very commanding voice came over a kind of dream PA system and said, “It's a dream, you idiot.”

I looked around in confusion. “What?”

“I said it's a dream, you idiot. Just go for it.”

I thought for a moment. The voice, which sounded quite a lot like my voice, was making a very good point. This was a dream. This wasn't really Egg, it was dream Egg. And this wasn't real me, it was dream me. And this wasn't real sex, it was drea-

Suddenly Batman was bitch-slapping Robbin and saying, “We fucking get it!”

And then Grumpy and Egg... that is, dream Grumpy and dream Egg were totally getting it on. And it was hot. Egg was sensational. And I'm happy to say that I was really, really good.

“See?” Egg said afterwards. “How fun was that? We should totally do it again sometime. We could do it every night... every night... night... night...”

Then I woke up and felt very odd. Such a vivid dream. Egg and I... we did it. And it was really good. And perfectly okay because we can't help what happens in our dreams, right? And there would be no repercussions. Not even if we did it every night.

I trudged upstairs and flicked the lappy on, thinking that the voice-over bit was pretty damned funny. I had to share this with Facebook.

And suddenly there were repercussions.

The Dreaded One was not impressed. “It's a bit creepy, isn't it?”

“Creepy?” I repeated, hurt. “It's funny. Hehe... the voice-over saying it's a dream, you idiot.”

“But what's it going to be like when you see Egg – and I don't want to know who Egg is, by the way. All the girls are going to want to know who it is and...”

I palmed the air. “All right. All right. I'll delete it. It's good material but I won't use it on Facebook.”

“Good. Very sensible of you.”

“I'm a very sensible man. We'll just keep this between you and me.”

Grumpy is freelance writer and dream lover Lee Bemrose (leebemrose666@gmail.com)