Dream #172: Fugitives in Japan
04.06.2010 § Leave a comment
Charles and I are fugitives, either fleeing or failing miserably to infiltrate this place. We’re really high up already; it’s a clear, bright blue day out, but the air up here is pretty thin. We’re on these alternating off-white inclined plane switchbacks with wire mesh walls. A series of them are crowded with mint green pickups at their bases, which are too heavy to push but if you get in they roll up. Charles can’t figure out how to turn them on; they must be American because the driver’s seat is on the left. So we rush up a few of those, under hot pursuit.
Onto the next stage. At each 180 degree turn there are a bunch of Japanese guys painting the wire mesh off-white. There’s not a whole lot of room to get around them. We ponder our next move for just a tad and finally Charles just shoves past them. At this point I don’t have much choice but to follow his lead. There’s a chorus of protesting Nononononono’s, and some assorted broken, simple and heavily accented English “Stop go back” and so on. They even slap their wet paintbrushes on our pants as we pass! Damn, these were nice jeans, too! Fortunately they somehow failed to make good contact with me, but Charles got off-whited pretty bad. Love how they completely ignored us up to the point that we did anything.
We get to what would be the next turn, but it’s the end of the line. There’s not another inclined plane to the right. At the end of this stretch there’s a security box and to its left a gate in the mesh, which is in all likelihood electrified. So it was all for naught. Charles and I dejectedly tuck our tails and slink back. This time the painters just let us pass unharried.
During our unnervingly leisurely way back and out we brush past a relatively hot blond tourist babe, crouched down in a corner investigating a sign hung on the mesh, who is alone, and about our age too. I realize that while I’d normally just ignore someone like her, to do so in these circumstances would actually be more awkward, impolite and uncool. So I let shy ass Charles move along while I hit her up for small talk. At the entrance of this place there was a room similar in construction to the security box at the top but which is a restroom. I need to stop at it, but then I ask myself, “Why do I need to stop here, because I don’t want to appear to need to use the restroom in front of her so soon let alone visibly internally debate doing so?” But I salvage the situation by remembering that I left my shoes here when I came in and need to get them now, so now my moment of hesitation and confusion just seems cute to her.
A similar blond walks toward the camera, center framed, in a really low angle from near the floor, tilting up as she approaches, and she’s wearing a summer dress mostly red with some white and it’s a floral pattern, and Charles’s voice over says, “I got a new one.”