Another Dream.

OK, This one was is really interesting.

I'm standing in the middle of traffic in a downtown suburban area. Not sure why at this point. I'm hardly bothered by it. I see a cousin of mine off on the sidewalk, so I walk over to speak with him. The traffic starts thinning out as I begin moving, so there's no danger of getting hit.

As I join him, a large panel truck pulls up. Out jumps Bimbette #1, a skinnyh, brunette, top-heavy type with just enough clothing to be legal. She begins talking to a gathering crowd around us very animatedly, asking us if we want to be in a video, and giving directions as to where to stand, how to look, what emotions to portray. I'm still confused and a little put off by this.

She's joined shortly by Bimbette #2, who is the blonde version, as well as two male versions of the same basic model. I realize that these are video producers and they are dressed up this way for a very calculated purpose, which is crowd control. Most men will listen to a pretty girl, and vice versa. I gather, from context clues that they are filming a rock music video, and that the band will be coming around the corner shortly. They need extras, so whoever is on the street will do.

This is where things really turn comic. The band comes around the corner on the back of a flatbed truck. They are supposed to be playing, and we are all supposed to act shocked. Neither of us fulfilled our obligations. The band is just confused, and we're all laughing at them. Me, loudest of all. The band is herded back around the corner by Bimbette #2, who appears to be in charge, and the proverbial "Bad Cop" of the two bimbette tag-team. "Good Cop" calms the crowd down, and continues with the direction.

The truck comes back around the corner again, but where's the band? They're still donning their instruments, back around the corner. "Bad Cop" goes into a tirade at this point. The two male directors are just as confused as the rest of us, who happen to be laughing gales at this point. I poke my head around the corner as blondie tears each one of the band members in two. (Figuratively, of course. It wasn't that kind of dream.) The band looks like a bad AC/DC knockoff, complete with short-pants-wearing guitarist and drunken lead. I'm laughing again. "Good Cop" gently directs me back to the rest of the crowd, suffering only a look of contempt from me.

Finally, the band members come around the corner on the truck, playing, and we all do indeed look shocked. There's no sound for them to play to, and the instruments aren't plugged into anything. They're just supposed to look like they're playing. The sound, if it can be called that, is awful. At this point, I begin walking back down the street, laughing, and leaving the whole mess behind.

And then my alarm clock went off. Good timing, huh?