Mister Eclectic (howeird) wrote,
Mister Eclectic

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Weird Dream Channel

I wake up late for a sci-fi panel which I really want to go to, and decide to leave right now, I can get dressed later. The panel is being held in a meeting room of a drug store downtown, I can buy underpants there and not be naked at the panel.

Leaving the house, I walk naked through downtown streets (I have no idea what city this is) which are empty, go through an alley to the side entrance of the store. It's the right store, and I am encouraged that looking through the window I see clothing on display - hanging from the ceiling. I walk up the one flight of stairs, and even though there are plenty of employees and the distance between the door and the customer service desk is about 20 feet, nobody seems to see me. I walk up to the desk, where a middle-aged black woman is sitting down, looking at her computer screen about 2/3 turned away from me, and say "excuse me". She is startled, but not because I am naked - see can't see that with the counter between us. I ask her where the underwear department is, and she tries to describe all the twists and turns but is making no sense at all. Another middle-aged black woman employee comes up to me from my side of the counter and says she will show me. We walk to a door all the way across from the counter, up a flight of stairs, and the woman leaves me in front of a display of men's underpants hanging on racks, which takes up the whole floor.

There are too many choices, and the sizes are not the standard ones, they are things like HV and B and O.  And for a moment I don't know what size I am. I find one which I know is my size, but it is white mesh, fishnet mesh, which would hide nothing. I leave the underwear section and soon I am wearing a full outfit, looking at myself in the mirror in a salmon colored shirt, brown plaid pants which are too tight but I think I'd rather look good than be comfortable, and a jaunty hat which looks like something you might see on a Keebler elf. Or on Gene Kelly playing a Keebler elf. The tags are, of course, still dangling from the clothes.

I go back to the counter downstairs, and someone cuts off the tags, bar code scans them, and I take a credit card out of my wallet, which I am holding because my pants are too tight for it to fit in a pocket.

Soon I am entering the room where the panel is being held, way late, and am glared at by one of the panel members, Ctien I think, and I wonder if he knows I am  not wearing any underwear.
Tags: dreams

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