The Strange Café in Calle Montera, Madrid. | Dream #1
ode to my subconscious: I always remember my dreams. My subconscious is a well of pure imagination and I appreciate it being a constant and reliable source of inspiration.
The following is a dream I had last night.
 |
| Calle Montera, Madrid 1922. Source: Pinterest |
So, I found myself walking in Calle Montera in Madrid, Spain with my cousins; they were visiting from Egypt and I was determined to show them around and also show them how I live and stop having to pretend or "soften myself and blur my personality around the edges" for them.
Ergo I took them to a fictional café from a distant memory, it was night-time but the lights the small café were emitting were so strong it was almost day-time. We each took a seat in the terrace and me and one of my cousins, let's call her Mia, started collecting the orders; we went to the counter to order and I almost bit back mentioning that this was a very famous bar for cocktails and that it's not your typical café, she nodded and told me that it's alright and we'll all get virgin cocktails and it should be fine. Mia ordered a milky looking cocktail for her and myself; it was full of floating raspberries, and a mix of different cocktails for the rest of the company, we took the cocktails and headed back to the table.
Ten minutes passed of idle talking and tasting each other's cocktails when Mia suddenly wondered out loud about what a real alcoholic drink would taste like and she wanted to try a shot; I told her she can go to the bar since we're already here and order a shot, five minutes later she came back with an empty glass and a can of tunic and we all laughed at her explaining that tunic is just a chaser and she didn't actually get alcohol; we were in the middle of lightheartedly making fun of her and laughing when all of the sudden the whole bar went dead silent. We looked around at the mute patrons, who were making a hell of a noise not 5 seconds ago, to find them all almost turned to stone: they looked stiff and they all had almost identical glazed eyes with weird light flares between each table and above each glass.
In a typical dream fashion; none of us was scared or shocked, just plain curious. I looked at my cousins deciding on how to explain this while also thinking if I've ever been turned to whatever these people have become while drinking, I took a sip of my milky cocktail as they were all watching me attentively waiting for an explanation and thought out the most logical reason for what we were witnessing: "You see," I said, in arabic. "This tends to happen everytime someone drinks an alcoholic beverage from this specific bar, which explains why no one around us is curious about this situation; I think this bar has invented a new type of drunkness and that's why it's so popular, thing is-" I continued sipping and digging through fictional memory, "thing is, we're all supposed to reach that mental state here, this bar does not allow sober people to stay till this trance happens, this means that when Mia went to order a shot, she actually did, but the bar tender messed up her order, evidently he was nearing the trance, or whatever this is, and thought that with this last shot served, he has secured that all of the people in here were getting drunk."
Ten minutes passed of idle talking and tasting each other's cocktails when Mia suddenly wondered out loud about what a real alcoholic drink would taste like and she wanted to try a shot; I told her she can go to the bar since we're already here and order a shot, five minutes later she came back with an empty glass and a can of tunic and we all laughed at her explaining that tunic is just a chaser and she didn't actually get alcohol; we were in the middle of lightheartedly making fun of her and laughing when all of the sudden the whole bar went dead silent. We looked around at the mute patrons, who were making a hell of a noise not 5 seconds ago, to find them all almost turned to stone: they looked stiff and they all had almost identical glazed eyes with weird light flares between each table and above each glass.
In a typical dream fashion; none of us was scared or shocked, just plain curious. I looked at my cousins deciding on how to explain this while also thinking if I've ever been turned to whatever these people have become while drinking, I took a sip of my milky cocktail as they were all watching me attentively waiting for an explanation and thought out the most logical reason for what we were witnessing: "You see," I said, in arabic. "This tends to happen everytime someone drinks an alcoholic beverage from this specific bar, which explains why no one around us is curious about this situation; I think this bar has invented a new type of drunkness and that's why it's so popular, thing is-" I continued sipping and digging through fictional memory, "thing is, we're all supposed to reach that mental state here, this bar does not allow sober people to stay till this trance happens, this means that when Mia went to order a shot, she actually did, but the bar tender messed up her order, evidently he was nearing the trance, or whatever this is, and thought that with this last shot served, he has secured that all of the people in here were getting drunk."
Fin
Comments
Post a Comment