How does one recover from this?

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Late last night as I lie sleeping, I dreamt; something I don’t usually do.  It was so vivid and realistic that when I woke, I questioned the world around me.

The elevator doors opened and my eyes were instantly focused on the odd scene in front of me.  I had to look twice because I wasn’t quite sure of what I was looking at.  There was a man, dressed in a blue suit with a top hat of all things, sitting on the roughly carpeted floor and drinking a glass of ice-filled liquid the color of amber.  I’m guessing it was some type of whiskey.  Behind the man was a woman – naked – red hair and the lightest group of freckles adorning her magical face.  She was holding a snake in her arms, the thing wrapping itself around her supple neck.  Still, these were not the strangest things to be witnessed.  Behind the two odd characters and to the right was a large ceramic planter, painted with dull southwestern designs.  Normally this would not cause a stir.  Foliage of this type are frequent in hotel lobbies, no.  The thing was hanging upside down from a series of chains attached to the ceiling.  The plant was fixed somehow to the inside of the large pot.  My head cocked to the right like a confused dog and yet this was not the oddest thing to be seen that morning.

Suddenly, my feet felt a rush of icy cold and I looked down to find that I was standing in water up to my ankles.  A school of fish swam around me as if I were invading their  space.  The doors to the elevator remained open and I wondered if I would ever wake from this awful dream.  Clearly I had to be dreaming.  The images and oddities placed before me were too fantastical to be actual.  I felt something warm brush against my left shoulder and turned in its direction.  A thick red mist hung in the air like a cloud on a rainy afternoon.  I closed my eyes and attempted to wake myself.  I thought I was gaining success until the red mist began to speak; to me apparently.

“Lovely day isn’t it?”  It announced through no mouth at all.  I nodded in lieu of a response.  This did nothing to deter the thing from continuing.

“Pardon me, but I couldn’t help but notice that your shoes are untied.  I wouldn’t have said a thing had they been sneakers.  Dress shoes of your style should be fastened; for safety reasons of course.”   I glanced down to see that not only was the crimson fog correct, but that I was no longer wading in the fish-filled water.  I was overtaken by the urge to thank the thing but after straightening from tying my laces, he had vanished.  Nonetheless, this was also not the weirdest spectacle of all.

The top hat man and naked snake lady had remained unmoved from the threadbare carpeting.  Out of the corner of my eye – which eye I cannot be sure – I noticed movement: thick heavy movement; like construction machinery, only it appeared at first to be human in nature.  As this whatever came closer I was shocked out of my recently tied shoes to find that it was the actor David Ogden Stiers, the fellow who portrayed the annoyingly brilliant Major Charles Emerson Winchester III on the 70’s comedy M*A*S*H.  I was immediately thrilled as he entered the elevator.

“Big fan!”  I told him, and instantly regretted it as I seemed like a crazed lunatic.  He smiled curtly and stared off into nothing.  It was only seconds later that I felt something tug at my pants.  I twisted around to find Major Winchester going through my pockets.

“What the fuck man!”  He looked up and I noticed a small fish in his mouth.  He continued to search through my pockets.  “Excuse me!”  Only then did I notice that it truly wasn’t David Ogden Stiers, but a waxen version of him.  When the waxy imposter tried to speak I no longer felt the need to stay in the elevator, but my attempt to leave sparked the doors to close and I was headed down.  I hadn’t a clue what was in store for me next but I didn’t assume that it could possibly get any weirder.  Upon reaching the bottom of the hotel, which I was assuming was the ground floor, the doors opened and Winchester ran out screaming.  I was relieved to see life as I had remembered it.  People – normal people – all doing normal things.  This is when the morning took a turn for the worse.

The hotel lobby was full of what appeared to be business type folk.  They moved quickly from one point to another – talking on their phones or typing on their computers.

“psst…”  I heard this coming from one of the many lounge chairs available in the middle of the lobby.  I approached.  “psst…”  The sound got louder as I got closer and I entered a ring of chairs situated around a stone fireplace.  I glanced around at the guests who sat there.  There were all types of humans: men, women, tall, skinny, ugly, you name it.  As I reached the 9 ‘oclock position in my rotation I spied a familiar face.  It was Donald Trump.  He was trying to get my attention.  He offered me a seat on the couch next to him and I obliged.  Before saying a word he took out his wallet and began throwing 10 dollar bills at me.  This was confusing to say the least.  When he finally did speak, it all came crystal clear.  I picked up the 40 dollars and he grabbed my arm.

“Vote for me and you will always have cookies.”  I slapped him in the face, stole his wallet and ran.  Then, inevitably, my alarm went off…


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