Last night, my wife, Sarah, and I were in New York City on a College field trip and I beat up a bouncer.

Ok, perhaps I should preface this story by saying that this was actually a dream.  That’s not a particularly important aspect of the story, I just thought it might help clarify a few issues.

So.  We were in New York City and Sarah and I (who may have only been dating at the time, I’m not sure) decided to go downtown to see a Broadway show.  We invited a bunch of people to come along with us but most of them ended up going shopping instead of to a show (boy you can drag an imaginary college friend to culture but you can’t make him drink… am I right?)

So, Sarah and I were the only ones who actually ended up getting tickets to a show.  It was late when we got to the half price ticket booth and most of the good shows were gone.  This was sort of a last minute decision so we ended up choosing one of the few shows that still had tickets available. 

I don’t remember what it was called, but we had very good seats: row a.  (it was a little a, if you’re wondering).  The show was a musical about a bunch of cartoon characters that had come to life, and it starred Alyssa Milano.

This is, perhaps, when I should have known I was dreaming.  Alyssa Milano’s presence on a Broadway stage alone should have been a pretty good indication.

Anyway.  I looked at the ticket and realized that this wasn’t actually a Broadway production but an off-Broadway production.  This meant that it wasn’t in Times Square, where we were, but rather downtown somewhere.

I remember that the address on the ticket stub was 621 6th Ave.

FYI, this is actually the address of “Chelsea Green Associates” which to the best of my knowledge is not performing a cartoon musical starring Alyssa Milano.

But that point aside, I realized that the show started in about half an hour and we needed to get there quickly or all the money us poor college students had spent would be for naught.  So, we ran over to a taxi stand.  The first taxi there pulled away as soon as we walked up.  But luckily, there was another one waiting behind it.  Unfortunately, this taxi was a weird convertible three wheeled roadster, but it was painted yellow and appeared to be a regular taxi.  I knew that taxi protocol required that you take the next vehicle in line so it did not seem appropriate for us to skip past the yellow Munster Mobile and get in the normal looking crown vic taxi behind it. 

The driver of the trike leaned forward so we could fold the front seat down enough to squeeze into the back and we clambered onto the bench behind him.  I read him the address (621 6th Ave.) and we put-putted off into the New York traffic.

Perhaps, THIS is when I should have realized I was dreaming….. I did not.

Anyway, as I’m sure you all know, it gets very hilly down in southern Manhattan (well, at least in my dream) and the taxi-trike had a little difficulty getting up some of the inclines, but eventually we found the theater with the big lighted sign with Alyssa Milano’s name in lights above the title of the show (which I can’t recall) and we went inside.

It had taken us longer than I expected to find this place and the show was about to start.

The theater was actually very peculiar, there was a stage and there was an audience area, but there was also a long bar around it and lots of patrons drinking and talking as the lights dimmed. 

We found our seats and they were terrible.  We were off to the side so far that I could hardly see the stage and we were seated on different rows.  Sarah seemed ok with it, but I wanted to sit together.  (Maybe we weren’t dating.  Boy that would have made that move I tried to put on her in the taxi pretty awkward)

Anyway, the show started and at first it was just cartoons on a screen and then a couple of giant talking cartoon characters walked on stage and started singing.  One was a big bird knock off and the other was just large and hairy.  It could have been some kind of a muppet or possibly Tom Selleck, hard to tell.

Well, this was ridiculous.  Our tickets said that we had seats in “row a,” together.  Something was clearly wrong.  So I went and talked to this giant bald guy with an ear ring and a hell’s angel tattoo who appeared to be the usher.  He walked me over to the far side of the stage and down these steps to this weird cage like area underneath the bar and pointed me to my seat.

“This can’t be right, I said, these seats are terrible, you can’t even see the show!”

He took his meaty hands and forced me into my seat and said, “sit down!  And I better not see you wandering around again or I’m going to crush you!”

What was this place?  The musical gulag? 

I tried to look up and watch the show, but all I could see were giant furry feet moving around in front of me.  Sarah wasn’t here and I couldn’t even see the stage.   I mean, was Alyssa Milano really even in this show?

I watched for a few minutes, hoping Sarah would show up, but to no avail.  Eventually I decided to get up and try to find her.  This had clearly turned out to be a terrible choice, but we could at least watch it together, or decide to throw the towel in and leave.

I got up to leave the dungeon and someone at the bar leaned in and said, “You better not let that bouncer guy see you up.  If he sees you out of your seat, he’ll kill you!”

Good Lord, it was like 10th grade math all over again.

I decided it was time to go.  The show was terrible, the venue was laid out by drunk monkeys and the bouncer was insane.  Maybe we should just grab some cheesecake and get back to our dorm.  I finally found Sarah who was now sitting near the front.  I sat down beside her and asked if she wanted to go.

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” she said, making no apologies for disappearing earlier, “lets just watch.”

“I don’t think we’re allowed to sit here,” I said, “the ushers are a little crazy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. This is fine.”

Just then Olaf (for that is what I have decided to call the crazy usher guy) saw me.

“Hey, what are you doing here?!”

He began to run toward me and his eyes had that bloodthirsty look so common in deranged eastern European bouncers.

I immediately jumped up and started running for my life.  Sarah shushed me and turned back to the show.

I ran as fast as I could and ducked out one of the exit doors and hid on the far side of a pillar. 

What the hell was going on?

I probably should have known, now, that this was a dream.

I was standing against the pillar breathing hard when I heard someone shout, “There he is!”

It was squat little Olaf and he had two big muscular cronies with him.

Crap.

I started to run.   I was racing down the sidewalk like a gazelle on acid.  I knew I could outrun them, but for how long?

Eventually after an exciting chase which involved scaling walls and leaping trash cans and the likes, one of the body guards caught up with me and I turned around and kicked him in the knee cap.  Much to my surprise, he fell to the ground whimpering in pain.

This is when I should have really really known this was a dream.

Then Olaf grabbed me and I kicked him where it counts and he was down. 

By now, the third guy had caught up and he grabbed me and lifted me over his head, apparently intent on breaking me in half.  I gouged him in the eye with my thumb.  And he dropped me, screaming.  I gouged him again because a person trying to kill you can never be too blind, and then I took off running back up the hill. 

I had to get out of here. 

I ran by the theater where the exit door was still open.  I heard a female voice singing.

Who knew Alyssa Milano could sing?

I ducked in and looked for Sarah but she was nowhere to be found.  I ran back out and headed up the street I was going to have to text her and hope she could meet me back at the train station or something when the show was over.

And then my son started screaming and I woke up.

Ok.

So, having spent the better part of the night going through this whacked out crazy dream, I have several questions:

1. What is wrong with me?

2. How in the world did I come up with this dream after watching an episode of the Simpsons and 15 minutes of a Desperate Housewives rerun?

3. Why in the world were those beefy bouncers so mad at me and how in the world did they get hired to work at an off-Broadway theater?

4. How did it end?  Did Sarah and I ever reconnect?  Did we make it out of lower Manhattan safely?  Did we earn all the credits we needed to for our academic study program?  Was there, perhaps, a romantic reconciliation back at the dorm?

And finally, and perhaps most importantly:

5. How come in the only dream I have ever had that involved Alyssa Milano, THIS was the story line?

Seriously?

Seriously.