I had a dream last night.

I was at church choir rehearsal. I used to sing in the choir occasionally in high school at our family’s church. oh man, our family’s church … now there’s a barrel of monkeys I will refrain from delving into.
the longtime choir director has no formal training, I believe, beyond her years of singing on Sundays. her direction drove me nuts when I was also in a couple of high school choirs (the lamest of high-school extracurriculars), because I could see  she was just waving her arms around however she saw fit. that approach wouldn’t be so bad — if it works, it works — but the choir sucks. and they’ll suck tomorrow morning during service. they always get A’s for effort, but not much else.
anyway, I was at church choir practice (which I’ve never attended outside of dreamland) and Nadine the director was doing bumps of cocaine during rehearsal. choir practice drug use!
I found this funny. what a strange place for coke. I laughed, but Nadine didn’t see the humor in it. she channelled some Queen Latifah indignancy and began berating me for being off key. she had gone on the offensive on me, had flipped the script. I was taken aback.
I’m off key? I thought. but you just snorted a bunch of cocaine!

and here’s where I woke up to my alarm.


4 comments so far

  1. dudeokay on

  2. dudeokay on

  3. mowgli on

    have you heard that song by the butthole surfers (i had a dream last night… i swear thats their name too)? for some reason that song popped into my head when i read this

  4. dudeokay on

    hmmm …
    might you mean this?

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