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"Ye say yer dreamin' about little boys now? No yer right, that's definitely a cause fer concern."
I lean my forehead onto my lukewarm beer glass. "I knew I could count on you, man." Kelly Blake lets out a bray of laughter that I equate to that of an ass. He's sitting on the bar stool next to mine, not a bit out of place in a dive like this. His fiery hair is cropped short these days, I assume to accompany his attempts to 'buff up'. I'm surprised he hasn't gotten a gig as a bouncer, because he looks the part. He's dressed in dark jeans and a short sleeve army green knit pullover that's a bit too tight on the arms. Quite the contrast from the scrawny kid he was when I met him.
"They're just dreams, sham. Why're ye in such a huff about it? I have all sorts of questionable dreams. Never bothers me!" He brayed again and took a swig of his signature Bushmills.
The jukebox is jamming out tunes that I actually approve of, something rare in this day and age. 'When the clock strikes twelve we'll cool off, then start rockin' 'round the clock again...' The bartender has just poured herself and a girl in a black leather fringe vest each a double shot of vodka. They link arms and down the glasses together, to an off-tune chorus of cheers from a grungy group of men in the corner. Kelly really knows how to pick 'em.
"Don't they ever bother you when you wake up though? Feel so real they crossover?" I stare ahead at the sparkling bottles adorning the wall behind the bar. Multi-colored christmas lights are tacked along the top border of the fake wood paneling, running underneath a gigantic stuffed tiger head. Overexposed, flash-heavy photo prints of previous patrons are lined up under the twinkling lights. Kelly gets the idea this is something that's actually bothering me. He leans forward and sets his elbows on the bar.
"A bit, mebbe. But I suspect my morning dream remnants are a little different than yers." He chuckles, but more gently this time. "You have any idea why these dreams are botherin' ye now, all of a sudden? I've never heard ye mention this before." He gives me a curious glance, the sort you might give a family pet when you're trying to figure out whether or not it's sick.
"Well, I've never had anything like this before. I've always slept like a baby. You know me, the biggest worry I've ever had is whether I'll be working on electronics or mechanics tomorrow. I don't even know the definition of stress. I think someone else's dreams have snuck their way into my bed." I immediately cursed my choice of words. He burst into another wild, hearty bout of laughter.
"If only someone else had snuck 'er way into yer bed, then I wouldn't be listenin' to yer bitchin' about dreams!" He slapped his knee, and I couldn't help but laugh with him. I was a constant source of comedic fuel for the Irish jokester. Somehow I was always picking the phrases that set him up perfectly. It was probably one of the reasons we were permanent fixtures in each other's lives. We spent the rest of the night talking only minimally about my latest psychological issues. Instead, he reminded me of all of the simple, real joys of life, like he does. First was the inevitable failed attempt at seducing the bartender. She ended that with a short and decisive arm-wrestling contest. I've never seen a woman with such impressive biceps. This of course developed into a loud and impotent altercation with the dusty fellows from the corner. Spitting and snickering at them, we stumbled onto Geary street sometime after midnight. We accepted the opportunity to take a philosophic stroll around the Tendernob neighborhood. "Y'know, I hear that dreams are yer subconscious, speaking to ye about things ye don't have the balls to face" he says, somberly.
"That's what I always thought too. Memories coming back for closure or some shit." I pause a moment to wrestle a hiccup-belch that's made its way halfway up. "But these aren't like that at all. I haven't ever seen any of this, it isn't like anything back home. It's all so real, and completely new to me."
Kelly's quiet for a minute. "Maybe yer a bit gone in the head?" I nod in contemplative agreement.
"I knew there was going to be some cost for my creative genius." We both chuckle. The cool night air and the company of one of my oldest friends has an anchoring effect on me. Despite all the discomforting thoughts floating around in my head lately, I still feel like myself with Kelly.
"I dunno, sham. What are ye working on these days? Mebbe ye need to sweat a little more. Mamo was always telling me, 'A good day's work is a good night's sleep.' Mebbe ye need a change of pace?" Coming from Kelly, this made a lot of sense. His current job was laying subway train rails. His previous had been assembling industrial furnaces. I doubted he ever had trouble sleeping at night. It was a decent argument - industrial design kept my mind busy, but I never lift anything heavier than a pen at the office. On the other hand, I had a really rough time picturing myself shutting the brain off all day to pick up heavy things and put them down again. My buddy watched as all these thoughts bounced around my head. "Ye think too much. Ye ask me, that's definitely yer problem. Try wearing yerself out some more." The night eventually ended, and we went our separate ways until next time.
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I've been trying to take his advice since then, and it's been doing a mild amount of good. I tagged along with a friend from work to a rock climbing gym in the Presidio, and I ended up getting a membership. It's let me get some exhaustion in without being bored out of my skull. The challenge of the climbing routes answers the need for problem solving I've been feeling. I fall asleep immediately, and when I wake up, if I've had any dreams, they're thoroughly buried in my subconscious where they're supposed to be. The nights I haven't gone to the gym are still a bit restless, but nothing as bad as the boy in the rain. Maybe I've just been neglecting my health too much? If that's the answer, this whole dilemma was much easier to solve than I expected. I'll try to keep up the regimen and see how it goes.
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