I was wearing a dress all covered in plastic cherries. My hair was long and pitch-black and my lips twice as big. I was so fucking sexy that everyone turned their heads when passing me on the street. I got in a cab and ended up in front of a golden gate.
Elvis greeted me with kisses. He was really, really old and I told him that this shit is weird because I must be the only person in the world witnessing this.
He had a purple hallway and a green toilet, I made several attempts to make conversation but he did not seem to be able to talk.
I was desperate to touch him, hold him and be with him in every possible way. He held my hand and we cried and I tried to get closer but it was impossible.
We had dinner in the big dining room. A crystal chandelier was hanging over our heads, constantly swinging back and forth. We had chicken and red wine and apple pie for pudding. I had to ask the obvious question:
"Are you dead?"
"No one really knows, do they."
And then he smiled and I smiled and then I woke up.
Anyway. I am going for sushi with my friend Jon in just a minute. And hopefully a morning pint. Jon likes beer at any time of the day, Pantera, coffee without milk, cashew nuts and is highly likely to express the words "hey shall we have a screwdriver-party-for-no-particular-reason-at-all."
In other words, he is a lot like me. And A-MEN to that.
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