Another Classic Hatboy Dream (oops, forgot to give this post a name)

I had a funky dream this morning, in between being kicked and slapped by Toop. Typically, I was planning on getting a decent night’s sleep but oh well. Better than Sunday night!

Anyway, in this dream I was at a Final Episode party for the Game of Thrones cast and crew. A wrap party, I guess they call it. This wasn’t even the main part of the dream (thanks, weird brain!), although I guess in retrospect it was pretty cool. I’d apparently been an extra of some sort. Peter Dinklage was buying weird platters of pickles and hot chillis for everybody, and making them eat them because it was “tradition”. And John “Samwell” Bradley was there, I remember him looking like he needed a hug because it was all over.

But anyway, yeah, that was the apparently unimportant background to the actual events.

I went to the bar to order something to drink. The bartender had a bizarre system by which he would take a customer’s personal item – these mostly seemed to be mobile phones, but for some reason it was my bowler hat he decided to take[1] – and put it in a cabinet until the customer left. This was supposed to guarantee their good behaviour somehow.

[1] This is not really that surprising, as my hat is awesome.

I decided this was a bullshit rule and told him I wasn’t going to order anything, so he could give my hat back. He decided to be a jerk about it, putting the hat on and doing a variety of funny walks behind the bar. I have to admit, in retrospect, that he was a funny guy. At the time, though, I was pissed right off.

As part of his act, he pretended to relent, and give back my personal property. He got it intentionally wrong, though, handing me a series of mobile phones. I told him no, it was my hat I wanted. And when he pretended to realise his mistake and asked to trade, I said “no, fuck you, these phones are mine now.”

So began a hilariously one-sided battle whereby the bartender was basically screwed right from the start because he’d been taking people’s personal property and had now given it to me. I toyed with the idea of smashing one of the phones as a sort of ransom demand, and settled for pulling out my demolished and arrow-shot Nokia Lumia, and pretending it was one of the customers’ phones he’d given me. He began to look a bit worried.

I got my hat back pretty promptly, but by that point I was annoyed so I didn’t give back the phones, but went instead to find the people they belonged to and hand them back myself. It became pretty obvious the bartender was going to get fired.

Finally, because he just looked so defeated – and because he was a funny guy, really – I took pity on him and decided to write a nice review of the pub on my phone, and mention that he was a good bartender. I’m just that nice, once I get my hat back.

I woke up while in the process of trying to show him the review, which I was doing on one of the stolen phones while the rightful owner was complaining about how I hacked him, but I just laughed and said it served him right for his PIN being 1-2-3-4.

Don’t know if the dude got fired in the end.

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy. https://hatboy.blog/2013/12/17/metalude-who-are-creepy-and-hatboy/
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1 Response to Another Classic Hatboy Dream (oops, forgot to give this post a name)

  1. aaronthepatriot says:

    Well, as I’ve commented on my Dream(is) Envy (just to make the reference clear) before, I’ll just say this one is easy to analyze. You love your hats. A LOT. Like, unhealthily a lot. You might even love this one so much it turns to hate, to paraphrase from “Doll Parts” by Courtney Love Cobain but probably written by Kurt Cobain.

    Ok that got rambly. The end.

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