Last night I had a dream….It started off that my order of illegal fireworks had arrived, but they weren’t mailed. I had to go and retrieve them from the delivery guy, who was parked a block away and handing out the fireworks that people had ordered…one of my neighbors also had ordered some fireworks.
When I arrived there was quite a few people there, they weren’t in a line per se, just kind of all huddled around the truck (which BTW resembled more of an ice cream truck than a delivery truck).
When I received my fireworks I inspected them, and they looked like Black Cat fireworks,
but way different. They were shaped like cigars, and came in a variety of sizes, just like cigars. I was running home to tell my brother in law about these firecrackers, since he’s into that kind of stuff, he likes things that go boom!
I get home, and my phone rings…it’s a home phone, not a cellular and I don’t recognize the voice on the other end, but asks if I want this table…..I don’t remember saying yes or no, but the next thing I know is I’m outside in a Brooklyn Bed-Stuy type neighborhood.
I drive down the street, and it empties into a field, the building that I am going into to get the table is on the corner, and faces the field. I get out of my car and I look at the field. The field looks rundown, and the ground/grass isn’t very green, more like a hay type color of brown, but not quite dead.
I turn around and there is an older black gentleman outside, I ask him “What used to be there?” he says, “They used to make porno films in that field.” I just shrug like “OK.”
So, I go into the building, and climb the stairs. On the right hand side is a Doctor or therapists office, and on the left hand side along a long hallway at the very end was another office….i’m not sure what kind it was, but this is where the table was.
I make my way to this office, and there is a lady in there on the telephone smoking a cigarette, I explain that I’m here for the table, she just points towards the back while the cigarette dangles in the corner of her mouth.
I make my way back and find this big ridiculous poker style table. 
I wheel it down the hall, and into my car, get home, and I think I get the table in the house, but i’m not sure….the next thing I remember is I am going outside every now and then and looking at my car, at first I don’t notice it, but the car seems to be in different places with each glance.
The 3rd and final time I look some girl yells “Hey man, your car is moving!” I run after it and it crashes into a light pole, but no real damage is done, more of an inconvenience than anything. I don’t even retrieve the car, I go back into the house, because my phone is ringing again.
I answer it and I think it’s the same lady who was on the phone smoking earlier, she asks me if I could watch her baby Elephant, I tell her “No! Not again!” (like this is a regular occurrence for me)….she somehow persuades me, and I go back to the office, I think I walk, since it was just down the block, and my car was still over on the side of the road in front of the light pole.
I enter the office, and now I’M smoking a cigarette, the baby Elephant comes out, and stands behind me……it stands up on it’s hind legs, whispers in my ear “The cigarette smoke damages my skin.” I bitch to the lady about taking care of another Elephant, because all they do is shit……she ignores this, and asks me “Is there is anything else?” “I could use some diapers.” I say. “I have some.’ she responds “How many?” I inquire, She holds up her hand in a the “3” symbol.
Me and the Elephant exit the office, and make our way down the long hallway to the other office, we go inside and there are about 4-5 people in here, along with an elderly black man at the desk behind a glass window (not the same black man from before).
He looks at the Elephant, and says “That’s a nice looking Elephant.” “Thanks, but it’s not mine and I’m just watching him.” I reply, He says, “They shit a lot.” “Yeah, I know.” At this moment the Elephant has started pooping on my heels….it’s not a solid poop, it is very runny. The poop gets more on his floor that on my heels, so I try not to move, so the man can’t see it.
Just then a voice comes on the radio and it’s my mom’s friend Phil, I listen for a bit, but couldn’t tell you what he was saying….I could tell that he was calling in like a radio talk show, but no idea of the topic at hand.
“Hey, I know him” I say, the guy behind the glass says, “oh yeah, he calls in all the time.”
Then I wake up.
Mr. T's Jibba Jabba 