Clooney

Last night I had a dream about George Clooney. Yes, seriously. In the dream, I was hanging out on a film set for some reason (not part of the crew, just hanging out), and then somebody asked me if I’d be the rabbit. Sure, I said. So they dress me up in this rabbit outfit, a big one with a whole head, Harvey style. The only thing is I have to hold up the ears with my hands, and my fingers stick out of the top. Yes, I don’t get it. Anyway, before I put the head on, George comes up to me and we talk, about what I don’t know, and then he says he wants me to meet him at some place at 9pm and he’ll be waiting for me. I’ll think about it, I say. So he leaves and I go on with my rabbit business, and then come 9pm I’m busy. So I send him a text message that says I won’t be able to make it, but I wish I could and I’m sorry. At 10pm, I’m sitting at a table and he comes up and he’s drunk (tequila). He’s still holding the bottle of Patron in his hands, and he says I never heard from you. Then his phone vibrates and he says I hope it’s you. And it is. So he’s happy and he says let’s go away together, but I say I can’t because I have a bus to catch. He gets all mopey and I get on my bus. The bus starts to drive away, but then I can’t stand it anymore and I run to get off the bus to go to him, and when I get off the bus I see him running towards me as fast as he can with the tequila bottle in one hand, and a wine glass full of tequila in the other. When we reach each other, we make out like they do in the happy ending Hollywood movies, music and all.