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Feb. 13th, 2007 02:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wickedfleaI dreamed about finding a bunch of money again. I was in New York, and I was supposed to be meeting ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lulu_girl so we could kick it old-style like all that and a bag of lo-fi chips. So I went down in the subway, and I had to buy a MetroCard. While I was buying my card at the machine, I noticed that there was a little slot between where two pieces of metal fit together--like, not a slot where you're supposed to put anything, just a gap. And I saw that people had stuffed a whole bunch of scraps of paper and receipts and stuff in there. Then I saw a few glints of green, and sure enough, I was able to pull out a good twenty wadded-up bills of varying denomination from it. I was gittin' all kinds of free money, yo. But some dude started ogling me, so eventually I stopped. As I was leaving with mad jack in my pockets, I was very happy, and I thought how cool it was gonna be to tell people that I had finally found a wad of real money. I reflected on how funny it was that I had often dreamed of finding piles of cash that ended up being counterfeit, but now it was the real deal.
Of course, when I found a secluded place and started counting the loot, it turned out to be fake. Bills of the wrong size, with pictures of Thomas Jefferson in drag, with funky denominations like $45--you name it, I had the fake money. I was crestfallen. :(
What is UP with that recurring dream, anyway? I'm not money-driven. I hate money. But I always need money, and I sure would like to find a free pile of it. Hmmmm.
lulu_girl so we could kick it old-style like all that and a bag of lo-fi chips. So I went down in the subway, and I had to buy a MetroCard. While I was buying my card at the machine, I noticed that there was a little slot between where two pieces of metal fit together--like, not a slot where you're supposed to put anything, just a gap. And I saw that people had stuffed a whole bunch of scraps of paper and receipts and stuff in there. Then I saw a few glints of green, and sure enough, I was able to pull out a good twenty wadded-up bills of varying denomination from it. I was gittin' all kinds of free money, yo. But some dude started ogling me, so eventually I stopped. As I was leaving with mad jack in my pockets, I was very happy, and I thought how cool it was gonna be to tell people that I had finally found a wad of real money. I reflected on how funny it was that I had often dreamed of finding piles of cash that ended up being counterfeit, but now it was the real deal.Of course, when I found a secluded place and started counting the loot, it turned out to be fake. Bills of the wrong size, with pictures of Thomas Jefferson in drag, with funky denominations like $45--you name it, I had the fake money. I was crestfallen. :(
What is UP with that recurring dream, anyway? I'm not money-driven. I hate money. But I always need money, and I sure would like to find a free pile of it. Hmmmm.
