Dream Blog #354
Conan O'Brien Unfortunately Becomes My Hero
I’m living in a big city in an apartment with no Pueblo-style influence and many floors. I just left somewhere, a club maybe. I enter the building, go to the elevator, ride up to my floor and exit. I walk past the elbow of the building and notice a door that I hadn’t noticed before.
It’s open and leading to a rooftop garden resembling the Queen of Heart’s in Alice in Wonderland but dark and more dead because it’s night time during fall. I hear laughs coming from behind an ivy-covered wall that’s a few feet away into the garden. A few people are leaving the garden and walking in front of me (rude). One man is smoking a cigarette and another man walks behind him with his arm over a woman. I don’t approve of the man smoking inside so I follow them with my eyes as they walk down a different hall than I intend to follow and I see a man in his 50s or 60s sitting in his underwear on a wooden chair to our right; he’s silently watching everyone. This seems unusual but I don’t say anything. I move past him and walk to my apartment.
I enter, pace around and then leave quickly. I can’t stand being in the apartment alone. It reminds me too much of a hotel. I hate this apartment. I depart through the fire escape and am down on the ground in what seems like an instant even though I was many stories above ground. I walk to the subway and back. I walk past the apartment parking lot at twilight and see a giant kangaroo rat standing behind a tiny, young tree. It’s about eight or nine feet tall and peeking through the sparse leaves. I see someone at a nearby car saying to their passenger, “Oh he thinks we can’t see him. I have to let him play for a few more minutes, he’s just too cute.” I move away quickly, afraid that if the rat sees that I noticed it, it’ll kick me to death. People and their fucking kangaroo rats.
I decide to go visit my friend who lives in a nearby apartment building so I don’t have to go back to my apartment. She isn’t there so I wait in the lobby for her. I start talking to a nice young man, he looks like a young Conan. We go back to my apartment. Now I look like Ellie Kemper in 2008.
After making out and complimenting each other’s hair, not-Conan realizes he’s late for a family event and invites me to go with him. “Sure,” I say, “is that appropriate, though? I mean, we did just meet.” He gives me a knowing smile and reassures me it’s fine. “Whatever you say, not-Conan.” We leave the building through the fire escape again, arm in arm, which would seem difficult because fire escapes aren’t exactly roomy. But then before I can say anything about it, we’re down on the ground in an instant. My hair is messy now but not-Conan can’t say anything because I’m not-Ellie Kemper who can just wave here mane and look perfect.
We get to an apartment building, still arm in arm, walk into their weird dentisty-hotel-esque lobby and he brings me to a wall and looks at me with his nonexistent-lipped smirk. “Hold on.” “Okay, Edward Cullen.” I say sarcastically. He chuckles as he looks up and the ceiling opens enough for us to squeeze through, all the way to the top floor it seems. That’s a weird elevator I think. He jumps and brings me with him.
It’s like we’re falling up. He pushes gently against the wall with his foot when we reach the fourth floor and we land on the carpeting. He looks at his watch and huffs.
“You’re late.” Someone says from across this room. It’s his sister. I know it’s his sister but I don’t know how I know it’s his sister. She doesn’t acknowledge me. She’s sitting down in a cushiony chair. She needed to get out of the party for a few minutes and just so happened to be out in the hall when we arrived.
“I know, I’m sorry. Look, go open the window so I can make the entrance worth it.”
“Fine.” She says. She gets up and goes through the door on her right, our left.
Not-Conan looks at me again, with his knowing smirk, and tells me to follow him. He opens the window that is between the chair and the door and crawls through it. I follow. We’re walking on a small ledge on the fourth floor above a street with traffic, but I’m not afraid. I know if I fall he can catch me with his weird super-jump. Plus, we aren’t going that far. He rolls through an open window and I follow.
No one notices his entrance. He’s disappointed. I’m glad no one noticed, I feel uncomfortable. Who makes an entrance like this? People who want attention #nothankyou. I hear an alarm and I wake up.