Last Night I Swam to Vegas

It is a beautiful day outside, so I have my upstairs windows open. I'm folding clothes on my bed when I think I see a very large Bald Eagle land on the roof of my neighbor's house. My first inclination is to find my camera, but it isn't in my bag or on my nightstand. I panic and furiously rummage through my chest of drawers to no success. By the time I get back to the window, I see only two chickens and a rooster.

But then I am suddenly sprayed with a water hose by my college friend Sally, who is downstairs watering her flowers. Her mother is sprawled on a float in the backyard pool and is wearing a bikini (and shouldn't be). "Come over and play," she says, and I appear instantly on the pool deck. We hug, and as I am letting go, the ground turns dark black and begins to swell in huge waves like a cross between a tsunami and an earthquake. I watch my house overturn like a capsized boat. Sally and I hold hands and dive into the pool together to avoid being swept away. When I come up for air, I am swimming in a flooded, abandoned house with dark mahogany walls and lush tapestries.

I'm now doing a competitive breaststroke down a long hallway in the house. The house is beautiful and I'm taking it all in and enjoying the long, easy swim. I swim for several minutes in complete peace--just me and the sound of the water rushing over my ears. I concentrate on my stroke and examine the antique furniture in the corner of my eye. When I reach the laundry room the water disappears, and my colleague, James, is standing naked watching his clothes spin in the dryer. Oddly, it's completely non-sexual and we speak casually as we might do at work.

I open the back door and I'm walking down stairs in my old Dallas high-rise apartment building. I talk with my neighbors as we walk down and discover the fire alarm has sounded and we are evacuating as instructed. Two people in front of us get into a fight over a bright orange jacket. A small Asian boy finally takes the jacket away from them and the fighting stops. We exit the stairwell into the parking garage and pile into my friend's Range Rover. I explain that I get very sick when I sit in the back seat as we spin round and round and round the circular parking garage ramp. I'm so nauseated I have to jump out.

I land, unhurt, at the feet of a valet just outside the lobby of the Bellagio in Las Vegas. He asks if I need help and I tell him "Did you know I'm getting a motorcycle?" He says "Awesome, dude," and gives me a hand to help me up. I'm suddenly feeling better and notice that he's short and very cute. I dust off the sleeves of my dark purple velvet dinner jacket and dig a quarter out of my pocket. I kiss it and flick it in the air. I wink at him flirtatiously and say "Wish me luck." He winks back and smiles. I make a note that his teeth are perfect and walk inside.