Night Visions, March 2015

Codes: "IRL" = "in real life". "INV" = "in Night Vision", meaning untrue in real life. 

"Skip" means a sudden transition from one segment to another. "The 1250" references my childhood home, a (too) frequent setting for my visions. Josie is my daughter, and most of my life has been spent with Chicken and Alex as friends. Any other people referenced, past jobs worked at or life experiences are real unless otherwise noted. 

 

 

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Night Visions Hall Of Fame

 

 

(Dates of awakening listed)

That Kid Has Some Heart. He's The King Of This Game! (March 31, 2015)

 

I'm playing "hoops", scoring two points by laying a deck of cards in a drawer.

 

Next, I sit with my mom outside her place watching with a crowd as her IRL neighbors brawl (they're notorious for long, regular, vulgar verbal arguments...if only I could be there daily). The woman, who has a prison guard's persona and build, is tossing the man down the hall like Uncle Phil at his very best.

When my mom mentions a potential new tenant, Prison Guard overhears: "She lookin', baby?" A single policewoman shows and my mom rats on Prison Guard, to my chagrin.

 

Finally, Kelly Clarkson and Kid Rock are hosting some live show; she teases him with a kiss before finally planting a long one on him—followed by a seductive breath on his face. I can tell you with little to no doubt: if she ever did that to me IRL, I would probably knock her over with my, uh, "reaction". Baby weight and all.

 

 

AND I Went In Thru The "Out" Door! (March 30, 2015)

 

Not much odd tonight—closest tonight came was me showing up to Kaiser Permanente on a rainy day and being told I MUST return four hours later for meds. I show them—I come back the NEXT DAY! In the parking lot somebody smashes into a parked car while trying to park themselves, but I don't really care.

 

 

Russell Wilson Must've Dropped It (March 29, 2015)

 

"Lily" from How I Met Your Mother has scheduled me to babysit for her, but when I show up she cancels. I vow to never sit for her again and return home. There, I flip on the NFL in time for a fake punt to be executed. It seems like it'll work, until the ball carrier slips on a baseball somehow left on the field. No penalty or interference call is made, and no one seems at all upset about it—just one of those things.

 

 

There Was Nothing In The Can, Either (March 28, 2015)

 

I'm in a room minding my own business when my uncle Bubba screams my name as if he's trapped in the wall. Upon investigation, he's outside the wall on a ladder that could use some stabilization—hence my summons. Unfortunately he falls off anyway, but survives the four-foot drop.

 

Next, I'm on the hoop courts of Vallejo Jr. High School, conversing with some Hawaiian chick as we saunter across. I recall a former IRL job, EarthBaby, where I delivered compostable diapers all over the Bay Area. I get emotional upon realizing all the babies I once served have grown up and are now in school—causing the woman to sidle away in disgust.

 

Lastly, yet another IRL former job, AT Systems, is giving me one last shot with the company provided I make ZERO mistakes. Minutes later I heat up a soda can in the microwave, wrecking it. At least it was over quickly.

 

 

"Today We're Interviewing Guest's Name" (March 27, 2015)

 

It's a re-enactment of the Seinfeld scene in which the group learns of Susan's death, except Newman is in Kramer's place and George is a uniformed police officer arguing with him.

Next thing I know, I'm doing a Giants broadcast with Jon Miller—and holding my own! We have a guest scheduled, and it turns out all guest interviews are scripted...even their reactions to jokes ("Faux Shock"). However, our guest's voice is too garbled even though he's in studio, so he's dismissed. Though good to me on-air, Miller steadfastly refuses to acknowledge me during breaks.

 

 

Tonight's Dream Produced By A-Ha (March 26, 2015)

 

Having randomly recalled the old Pam Anderson show V.I.P., the cast joined me in my dream, along with Daphne from Scooby-Doo. The VIP girls are annoyed with Daphne wearing the same outfit every day (even though I don't mind).

As we set out to find the episode's villian, the Tasha character clearly doesn't trust me, but I calm her with some come-ons and we eventually find the villain—some short, round martial artist who traps me in a strong grip. I escape, leaving the guy stuck in a "ball" position (legs around back of head; arms knotted around legs).

 

How does the villain meet his demise? He falls into a magazine with his son watching.

 

 

One Emotional Brotha (March 24, 2015)

 

Can't recall my 3/25 vision. But that's okay, cuz I've got one from my 3/24 nap. (Shut up, it was well-deserved.)

 

I'm in some charity softball game with ex-MLBers, ex-high school mates, and some other random people from my life. Just before first pitch, I call time to move a bag of practice balls off the field. I'm ignored; play starts with me way out of my shortstop position. Annoyed, I rush back into position—and strain my right calf.

 

Now I'm beyond ticked, and shifted to right field. To my right, some worker is on a ladder working on some roof overhang right there in the outfield. I just go off on him, bitching him out so badly the whole field goes silent. The very next pitch is lined to right and hits the worker square in the chest. "THAT'S WHAT YOU GET!!!" I bellow at him before flipping him off. Deafening silence. 

 

Realizing it's time to go, I split—discarding my outfit piece-by-piece along the way until I'm walking in my underclothes. The walk graduates into a jog across a parking lot; I nearly run into the path of an oncoming Mustang but stop myself. That's not good enough for the driver, a young black guy so upset over my carelessness that he tries to slam me into the side of his car.

 

Needless to say, I don't allow this. I do apologize profusely, taking 100% responsibility for the near-miss over and over again. The guy hasn't calmed—in fact, he's now crying, and demands I issue a "genuine" apology and make him believe it. You'd have thought I cheated on him.

 

 

Yeah, The Cops Will Believe THAT (March 24, 2015)

 

Four disconnected segments:

 

A) For some reason a 15-year-old girl is in my room. It's not what you think—I'm educating her on the old show Home Improvement, which she's too young to remember. 

 

B) My IRL late uncle is back from the dead, and in desperate need of $150. He has me call the loan office and spin some yarn, but when I'm unable to improvise on the fly he gets heated. "I'm glad you're not dead but don't curse at me!!" Zombies and their tempers...

 

C) The neighbors are moving. For some reason their carpet cleaner is running a hose through our door and window to do their floor. My biggest issue—why are the carpets being cleaned if furniture is still being moved out?

 

D) I'm at some outdoor event with dozens of folks I know. All is well, until I realize my new shoes have totally disintegrated—I mean homeless-level raggedy. There's no way I can stay, so I somehow try to quietly escape the party without anyone seeing my predicament. I covertly pull this mission off—only to find my car's been stolen.

 

 

What, Tough Guys Can't Cook? (March 23, 2015)

 

(Tonight's opening will be omitted for reputational reasons. Just know I do not covet even one of the many married women I know and leave it at that. I can't explain my brain.)

 

The now-ex of an IRL friend—let's call the friend "Sandy" and the ex "Rick"—is having relationship trouble and feels I'm to blame. As Rick badgers me, I shout "I would NEVER come between a father and his child! I'm a father MYSELF!!" Emmy-worthy stuff. Rick is still not convinced, and demands to see Sandy NOW.

 

Sandy works at the cafeteria of my old college, which is about as likely IRL as Kobe Bryant sleeping with a teddy bear. Rick and I head there, but she is not working at the moment. Rick thinks I'm jerking him around, so I have Sandy's boss confirm she does indeed work there. So I prepare to continue the search, only to find Rick—who, mind you, is tatted up and decked out in leather and dark glasses—pumping the elderly Filipina boss for a recipe. All righty then.

 

Next, we're back at the 1250. Rick wants to write a heartfelt letter to Sandy, but when my pen doesn't work I'm accused of "sabotage". So Rick finds a Sharpie and pens a long, sincere message to Sandy—on the wall.

 

It's the thought that counts, though—no matter how illogical said thought may be.

 

 

Maybe He Was Her Counselor? (March 22, 2015)

 

The Mariners have crushed the Angels in a clinching playoff game, which for some reason is being played in the middle of a busy street. I approach M's superstar pitcher Felix Hernandez and stress "The Angels didn't lose this game...YOU WON IT!" Later I run around repeatedly hugging a classmate from WAY back, Loryn. BTW I've seen Loryn exactly once in the past 17 years.

 

Later, I've discovered squatters at the 1250 and chase them out with the threat of baseball bat assault. A handsome Caucasian man and a severely cock-eyed, drugged-up African chick quickly flee. 

 

 

"The Crime Scene's Bloody Red, And Her Skin Has Been Cut Open..." (March 21, 2015)

 

Not much. My IRL (female) friend Alex and I cuddle, alternating between watching Law & Order: SVU and singing "Livin' La Vida Loca". For the 100th time, I can't make this stuff up. COME ON! COME ON WITH ME!

 

 

Mrs. Estolas Will Protect Me! (March 20, 2015)

 

The now-braidless Allen Iverson and I are chillin' around an apartment complex when we come across an old IRL acquaintance of mine, Aaron—who, back in school, wasn't exactly feared by anyone. 

 

He is exiting his apartment. I don't recall what A.I. or Aaron said, but whatever it was Aaron offended Iverson, and I was forced to act fast to stave off a colossal ass-whuppin. Iverson and I are soon joined by one of his flunkies; the two of them become increasingly infatuated with the credit card in my pocket. 

 

As I began to legitimately worry that a jumping is imminent, we arrive at my old kindergarten class. I quickly hustle towards the door, where I'll fall under my teacher's protection umbrella. Let's see you get me NOW, Iverson!

 

 

The Thieves Did It; So Can YOU (March 19, 2015)

 

After bizarrely getting emotional over the cancellation of Friends—a show which was cancelled 11 years ago that I only watched sporadically, mind you—I find myself back with an old IRL company, doing deliveries. 

 

One customer is a lazy-eyed Army chick who is irrationally nervous that she didn't seal her package properly. (Yeah, that's who I want protecting our nation.) Two more customers across the street from one another are ticked; both of their deliveries were apparently stolen off their porch. I am instructed to ring their bells going forward, even though one of them requires hopping an eight-foot fence. This can't end well.

 

As my route completes I encounter a fairly attractive chick about my age. She is thanking me for driving her somewhere earlier, which I have no recollection of. She now needs to be taken to "Red Buck Court", which I cannot find on my map. She finally does—it's across the bridge in a neighboring town. I politely refuse her request and she disappears into thin air.

 

Why can't that work for bums in real life???

 

 

Game Called On Account Of Tears (March 18, 2015)

 

My IRL cousin Orlando has been hired to do sports bylines, a job he's as qualified to do as Tom Berenger is to rap. No time to make sense of this—LeBron James and I are playing two-on-two hoops with some unknown bulky white guy and speedy little black guy. We fall behind 28-11 somehow but still fight. In fact, a loose ball rolls over a pile of sand and into a corner.

 

The big guy outruns LeBron for the ball and saves it to his teammate. Speedy Dude has a clear path to the hoop but decides to kick the ball instead of score. Meanwhile his teammate is occupied trying to calm some crying Mexican girl he's picked up. Guess the game is over.

 

There's more: following a strange sequence where my aquarium now houses several sea animals who jump out and pester me if they're ignored, I'm spending the night at my ex's place—with a ton of others including Ariana Grande. She is sleeping on one end of a long couch and I on the other, but I'm convinced if we go out for food, she will get a motel room with me. Just as I'm about to set my plan in motion...a bed opens up and she bolts. Bah!

 

(For the record, I could never lay a hand on Ariana IRL; she's like a child to me. And she's skinny.)

 

 

Can Brushing Restore My Hair, Too? (March 17, 2015)

 

Initially, I am running for my life from a journeyman MLB relief pitcher. The "why" is not clear. Eventually I end up back at the 1250, where my late uncle William hooks me up with...Sporting News magazines from 2006? Well, at least I'll have a scouting report on my potential assailant—if he tries to hit me with a baseball, I'll be ready. 

 

Next thing I know I'm at some photo shop...run by my estranged father. I get stuck waiting behind some whore who waits until getting her total before digging inside her five-gallon handbag for change. I lose patience and head for the restroom to brush my teeth. (?) One problem—my top two front teeth are all but gone, just broken off. Undeterred, I brush anyway...and they magically grow back! Yay me.

 

Before waking up, I make sure to have a long phone conversation with Pablo Sandoval. Initially there is a cute female interpreter, but she vanishes without a trace as our conversation progresses. I remind the Panda how tough the Boston media can be and that while it probably wasn't a good idea to bad-mouth the Giants, they'll still invite him back for the 20-year World Series reunion.

 

 

If You Are Being Murdered, Please Press 1 (March 16, 2015)

 

The setting: my Auntie Flo's house. Kelly and her plump cousin "Casey" Bundy are discussing her weight as she lies against me getting her long blond hair stroked (grin). She then goes outside and drops to the ground. A distressed "Mike" has me call 911, but I get stuck in a phone tree until pressing 0 for the operator. Explaining Casey's dilemma, the dispatcher doesn't seem to believe me and sends no one. Mike makes me call again, but a different dispatcher puts me on hold.

 

Mike has taken the phone when Luke Spencer of General Hospital fame emerges from the back, takes the phone from Mike, chews him out for not returning his texts and hangs up on 911—presumably spelling the end for Casey. Which is too bad cuz she was delicious (by my standards).

 

 

Can't Risk It Touching Them (March 15, 2015)

 

My mom has male company, "Embler". I ask if he's spending the night, and she emphatically confirms he is. I am naturally troubled, and go to remove all the belongings I keep at her place. Under my bed I find several pairs of shoes and clothes I had no idea I owned—jackpot! Nothing else really interesting occurs, unless you count a lamp that won't stay upright. Sorry.

 

 

See If I Ever Apologize Again (March 13, 2015)

 

I'm hooping late at night and spot some punk who I think is loitering on the other end. I shoo him off—but upon closer inspection, find he wasn't on it after all. I apologize, but he's still cross (and strong as hell). I continue trying to earn forgiveness and seem to be making headway, but then one of his boys shows up and I get socked in the mouth twice. Oh, well.

 

Next, I'm working for what is now my former radio show of choice, Rob, Arnie and Dawn. A vote is taken on air and I am the only staffer not included. Rob can't believe I thought this was intentional and gives me his stamp of approval—inspiring dreams of a successful movie career (?).

 

Lastly, and most strange, I drop off a drug dealer attempting to flee the country—earning $20. My car is stolen while I run in a store, but luckily my cousin Alani has somehow stolen another car for me to pursue the thief. Unsuccessfully, as it turns out.

 

 

At Least It Wasn't Ticking (March 12, 2015)

 

There I am on an army base, sweeping the barracks so well that I reveal a giant jigsaw puzzle concealed on the floor. Not knowing what to do, I go to my CO's. They pause making fun of President Bush long enough to ignore my question, instead ordering me to deliver "something" to another private. I don't think I ever found him/her, so if you see an Army private missing a uniform, boots or hair gel...it's my fault.

 

 

First Spock...Now The Fonz?! (March 11, 2015)

 

Wendy's now employs me. A customer orders water, but I struggle with even this simple request as Henry Winkler's death has hit me very hard. This is 100% true.

 

Next, I'm watching the Giants. Buster Posey charges the mound but isn't ejected. During the fracas, the team attempts to distract fans by honoring IRL retired star Vinny Castilla (who never was a Giant), but the fans savagely boo him over past comments. Castilla is still proud because of his ideas to improve the elevator landings were implemented. Yes, that's how it went. I can't explain it.

 

 

When In Trouble, Find A Teacher! (March 10, 2015)

 

The A-Team is in China, where a woman of many disguises is attempting to trick them. Hannibal catches on. I miss the A-Team, even when they make pointless cameos in my night visions.

 

Later, driving in my childhood neighborhood, I spot a suspicious truck on the road; it turns out the occupants robbed a nearby bank. Fearing trouble, I beeling to my old high school, but it's been replaced by a beach. On to Plan B: The 1250. Hiding as the truck passes by again, I'm able to catch "4DD" of the license plate—but am spotted. The vision ends with me in a full-on SPRINT to the safety of parts unknown.

 

Note: For some girls at my HS, going to the beach meant showing LESS skin than at school, BTW.

 

 

Why Didn't I Try That IRL??? (March 8, 2015)

 

The ex and I are—surprise, surprise—arguing, this time over Josie's pickups. I attempt to shut her up by making out with her nose, which she likes. But the session mysteriously ends when I'm transported to a computer lab and rebranded as a total dork, with several IRL friends. Noses are turned up at me when I seek a sports magazine. (I should have pretended to have only wanted it for the hunky guys.)

 

 

There Goes My Campbell's Soup Deal (March 7, 2015)

 

There I am, walking the streets with a bat. No, not looking for trouble—I'm going to play baseball! Except I forgot to drive to the field as opposed to walking, and all my gear is in the car. Whoops.

 

Luckily, I must go on benders and leave my car wherever because it magically turns up along my route. However, the street it's parked on suddenly morphs into a driveway as I peel off—and I'm boxed in. Late at night. Good thing I've got that bat.

 

Next, I'm playing football and make an incredible one-hand touchdown catch. The refs, however, go to replay. I'm given hope when one camera, instead of recording the play, is instead taken out by another football fired at it at 85 mph. However, more angles exist and my TD is overturned because it hit the "wall" before I caught it. (Made up for it with a nice pick later...I'm the fat Deion Sanders apparently!)

 

Finally, my grandma asks me out of nowhere if Michael Jordan is doing a "shitty" job running the Hornets, which pisses me off so bad I go to the bathroom. When I flush, crap piles all over the floor from the toilet and the wall pipes. Perfect time to wake up, don't you think?

 

 

Once An Ace, Always An Ace (March 6, 2015)

 

I'm making a delivery. I've got my pen, my handheld, my door tags, everything needed to make this seamless—except the package. Upon fixing this goof, the customer asks that in the future I not deliver until 3pm; he wants to be the only person in his office to receive packages. IRL this is absolutely absurd and we would laugh him out of the room...but here I pretend to be amenable to the idea. (I'm also given two juicy smooches by some bosomy staffer in the vicinity. Equally absurd.)

 

From there, I transition to MLB manager. Luis Ayala (a decent MLB reliever IRL) is unwilling to start a game for me, though he will enter in relief. His reluctance forces me to turn to Bert Blyleven with a 6am phone call. (Nevermind that the Hall-of-Famer has been retired for over 22 years. It's like riding a bike.)

 

 

Who Switched Our Lunch Bag With The Bodybag? (March 4, 2015)

 

A murder investigation is underway. My partner and I take the "victim"—-two half-cooked pieces of chicken—on every stop we make during the investigation. The case is cracked by an assistant; he notices a poster has been on the wall behind him since his birth, which points to...well, he never says who, or how he/she is connected. But the poster can't be wrong! 

 

Later, I go to pick up Josie and find a letter from her sister to my ex "Are you gonna talk to (me) like he's an adult or immature?" capped off by some inspirational slogan. I respond to this by making an (unsuccessful) pass at my ex and using her toilet four times in 10 minutes. That'll show her!

 

 

Spaceship Sales Are Gonna SKYROCKET (March 3, 2015)

 

Don't remember any of this but here's what I jotted down—Jerry Seinfeld is on Conan, discussing his inventions. These include a sex section in a spaceship, and a vertical corpse storage unit to keep the person upright. 

 

 

Now He's A Gro-dent (March 2, 2015)

 

A mouse turns into a plant. I blow off its petals. Two weak visions in a row.

 

 

Who Needs Pablo Sandoval? (March 1, 2015)

 

After Barry Bonds hits homer #777, my IRL aunt appears in the mirror behind me, scaring me half to death. She (incorrectly) thinks it is because of her face and is hurt. There's a mirror joke in there about the homer being the "fairest", and my aunt saying "BOO" as Barry trots...you figure them out.