Aaaa!! This time it was not a myoclonic twitch that woke me, but the General! And it was such an excellent dream!!! (When we are closing the dollar store where I work, usually something goes wrong and I am always in such an urge to just wrap shit up, because I know G is 'surprise' waiting for me outside, having come to drive me home... And somewhere out there is a shitty horror movie about ghosts with Jason Clarke, which I haven't seen, but I find him to be absurdly fuckable, so this was a ghost-horror dream with him in the role of the waiting General.)
Okay, so, we're at the large mall at night, and we're closing up our store, everyone else already pulling down the shutter doors and windows and vacuuming. Our store, in the dream, also has a little bit of a hotel on the above floor, which also needs to be cleaned a little, trash collected, utility closet doors locked, so on, but nobody likes to do it, because during the Blitz supposedly a bomb landed on it, killing the guests inside. Some kid who was supposed to collect the trolleys was also supposed to do it and also bring down the books for us to sign out for today's business. Meanwhile, I am hitting SO HARD on Jason Clarke, who is our filling-in manager; (IRL the dollar store staff is so scarce often people from sister stores come to act as managers on loan.) he's in a chair behind his desk, I am getting nearer during the conversation - we're waiting for everyone else to finish up so we can close the cash registers for the night. We have a few minutes to kill, so flirting with complete strangers seems like a good call. At some point he is telling me something - regarding the shop - as he would like to do and I lean into him, saying well, I want you to stop talking and kiss me. He responds: with all politeness he is going to decline my kind offer. If he must suffer for love, he would rather skip love altogether. I asked: so, you want me to hit you first?
Before he could say no, I grab him by the neck - he's a large neck, but so does G and I know how to hold it with one hand by nooking my thumb against the esophagus, bending the head back. I did that thing instead of a kiss that drives my lovers crazy, when I just sort of rub my whole face against theirs, cheeks, nose, eyelashes, eyelids, breath, whole body, all of it, from earlobes to the whole jawline, fully in almost pre-orgasmic, wholesomely committed mode to the moment - it doesn't matter how resolved against it you are, there is no way you can think of anything else while I'm doing that 'kiss'. Stunned, sitting back and staring at me shocked - and that man has a good face for shock, because his eyes are so large and bright - , sweating, he's forgotten why he doesn't want me to kiss him, but our moment is interrupted because the damn kid refused to bring the book from upstairs because it's full of ghosts.
Anxious to get laid, I run up and run into the whole array of apparitions: first the lady vacuuming turns to me and her face is a horror. She also seems aggressive and has pointy teeth: I run right through her, saying, yes, yes, I know, I know, you're a ghost. A lot of them are extremely scary, but I really haven't the time to appreciate their effort, because I have an erect Jason Clarke downstairs. I run through each room, trying to get the ghosts to realize they're dead so that they'd vanish and leave me alone. Some woman, who was supposed to babysit, but failed to save the baby, is now helping an old lady, asking: but how did you survive the bomb? ... And again, I usher them: she didn't, she's dead, you're all dead, can we please move it along?
The book I'm after is deep in a shelf that some old lady is trying to reach - she's all packed to go to the shelter, she'd just like her favorite book. As she turns, I know half her body will be burnt, so I don't even look, I just push her away and get her book and start reading it hastily, hoping that if I read it, the ghosts will be satiated and tune out for the night. It's some kind of Charlie Brown book, but he's saying he's on his 3.413.328th day now, and is upon his 800's lifetime. I remember thinking: what the ....
ALAS, I was reading that line out loud and the General, who was in the room, called out for me, saying he's told himself to wake me before I start talking in my sleep again. AAAaaaaaarrr!!! I was SO CLOSE!
But ye, that's usually the end of work day in our dollar store for ye.
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