Martin Luther King ain’t the only one who’s had a dream.
I read about this giant, several stories high aquarium exploding at a hotel in Germany. That night I had this dream:
I’m in this building with a large aquarium. The best view of the aquarium is from an atrium on the first floor. As I ascend to the atrium on an escalator, I see a text poster that says, “Welcome esteemed guest speaker, Mr Hemant Patel.”
I’m thinking, “hmm, that’s a Gujarati name.”
I arrive at the atrium where there seems to be a reception in progress with scrumptious-looking finger foods. I walk to the edge to admire the aquarium. A waiter approaches me and hands me a plate, saying, “help yourself to the food, sir.”
I oblige, stuffing myself silly.
Nobody seems to have met this Mr. Hemant Patel, and start assuming I’m him, saying, “hello Mr. Patel” and such greetings. I nod politely, but mainly concentrate on the food. Then a lady walks up to me and hands me a microphone, saying, “it’s time for your speech, Mr. Patel.”
I have a mouthful of brie, and mumble something. Then I panic, drop my plate, and hightail it outta there. As my dropped plate clatters, people look up. They see a big crack on the aquarium glass, and begin running as well. The aquarium explodes just as we all reach safety. Everyone thanks me profusely for quickly alerting them to the danger and saving their lives.
Among the ruins of the shattered aquarium, along with all the dead fish, I see the body of an Indian man that I presume to be Hemant Patel. I’m thinking, “he missed some great food.”
That’s when I woke up, with the taste of brie in my mouth.