Woke up this morning from one of those long, complex dreams which faded immediately except for the last scene. I was back at the prep school where I'd been a boarding student during the declining years of the Age of Disco (waves to jtdiii
), except this wasn't the Choate of my memories, but some ur-Choate of my subconscious.
I'd found my way into a bar on one of the dorm floors — we had those, but they were generally hidden away from faculty eyes, not operating with their own liquor licenses as in my dream. I was nursing a glass of wine and watching the ruckus in the hall settle down as evening study hours came into effect, when I realized the very large, amiable man in the red sweatshirt behind the bar was in fact me, seen in a mirror. I was shocked at how big I'd become again.
I'm still not sure how I served myself wine from the other side of the bar.