Thursday, July 27, 2006

it wasn't a beret, it was a cloche, and it was really more scarlet than raspberry



So in my dream last night, I was going for an interview to be Prince's personal assistant. We met at his little house. Dave came with me. I was wearing a snappy little vintage red wool coat and hat duo, a sixties sort of number. Prince came bounding out his front door and gave my outfit the once-over. He loved it! He grabbed my hand and we skipped inside with Dave trailing behind us.

The interview was in Prince's bedroom. Prince and I chatted for a second and then Dave came into the room. He didn't seem too pleased that the interview was going to be taking place in Prince's bedroom, but he tried to sort of make nice with Prince. He saw some scrapes on Prince's knee and gave him some advice about bicycle safety. Prince, on the other hand, didn't seem too pleased that my husband was taking place in his bedroom, so he was frankly quite chilly about the bicycle safety advice. Dave left us alone to conduct the interview, and Prince made an insulting comment to the effect that Dave was overly righteous or something. I said, that's my husband! You can't say things like that about him! This interview is over!

But it wasn't over. I was getting sucked into the black hole of Prince's sexy magnetism.




Before I knew what was happening, Prince started working some sexy jujitsu on me. He had the kind of arcane tricks you just knew Prince would have! As soon as Prince planted a teeny tiny kiss on my clavicle, I was like, uh-oh. I'm going to have to go on with this interview. I'll just go on with this interview for like five more minutes. And then Prince started talking into my shoulder blade in a deep, soft voice. And I was like, the shoulder blade! We've all been overlooking the shoulder blade as very prime erotic territory! You just talk into it! Who knew?? I'm going to go on with this interview for one more minute. But by now I had overly emboldened Prince, and he was pulling out some showstoppers. I knew we must cut this interview short or my marriage would be hosed.

I summoned all of my strength and with some difficulty I pulled myself out of the bedroom of Prince. Soon thereafter I woke up.

Dave was a trooper. And Prince and I must never meet.

11 comments:

Jo said...

That is a totally brilliant and hilarious dream. Thanks!

Adam said...

Hilarious!

kww said...

gotta love Dave!

Christopher said...

You DO know, of course, that Prince is getting a divorce from Mrs. Prince #2 don't you?

So, maybe this dream isn't so improbably after all - as he'll probably be needing extra help with the property division and what-not.

la Ketch said...

I was just going to comment on the divorce news which broke today but I see christopher beat me to it. Coincidence? I think not.

Laurel said...

Girl, girl, girl. I feel you. I feel the post-baby blogs, but I feel the erotic Prince "interview" blogs too. And I think this divorce serendipity just seals the deal--- you really mustn't meet Princey. But I will tell you, Prince has been my girlfriend a time or two (referencing the song of course).

flamingbanjo said...

Prince's mysterious powers of erotic hypnosis seem very Dracula-esque. If he were to use those powers on one of his door-to-door Jehovah's Witness evangelizing trips -- terrifying! I see legions of funky, sexed-up Jehovah's Witnesses taking over Minnesota.

Anonymous said...

DreamTina has some remarkable composure! DreamDave must be so relieved.

the beige one said...

in this instance, anonymous = me

Eve said...

It's a good thing Prince wasn't interviewing you in a little red corvette(clap clap...clap!)
Baby, it's much too fast.
He surely would have seduced you then... and made Dave cry, right along with the doves.

Ash said...

Did he drive you to the place where his horses run free? ;)