In the dream, my bands have both just finished playing a show in New York. I vaguely recall setting up and looking around the venue, but what I remember most happened afterward.
We were travelling in one vehicle, and everybody took off without me. They said they'd be back, but I had the distinct feeling they would not. As they drove off I looked on from a corner store. The neighbourhood was not a good one, but it was bizarre and not linked to reality at all.
Outside there were many roving gangs of what I'd describe as ultra-aggressive panhandlers. They looked and talked somewhere between Luther from the movie The Warriors and Scorpio from the first Dirty Harry flick. They would operate in groups of 8-10, surrounding passersby and getting right in their faces, literally inches from them. They'd threaten to kill them, torture them, and do all this other bad stuff if they didn't give up all their money. None of these threats seemed to be carried out though, and the people walking down the street would just ignore the gangs, acting like there was no one there no matter how aggressive they became.
Looking at all this, I knew I'd never survive here. Obviously, the locals were hardened and numb to this behaviour. There seemed to be a code of etiquette whereby as long as you showed no reaction, they wouldn't harm you but if you did, you were dead. I didn't think I had the nerves to survive this extreme level of harassment. I had to get out.
I summoned up all my courage and started walking down the street. I would just walk right the fuck out of there. But the city is pretty big, and I got discouraged fast. Avoiding the gangs was a real pressure cooker since they were everywhere. I decided the only escape was to climb up a tree. So I found one and climbed up.
Once I thought I was safe, I had a look around. I was shocked to see that two people had hung themselves in the tree I was in. Looking at other trees, every single one had someone hung from it... and not all by the neck. Some were contorted into weird positions, dying slow deaths up in the trees. Maybe the ground was a better place to be.
I decided I'd try and head back to the corner store, since I felt sort of safe there. The streets and sidewalks were very crowded. There seemed to be this weird rule where if you weren't walking fast enough, the person behind you could tug on your jacket as a sign to let them by. The first time someone did this to me, I nearly punched them, but they walked by me too quickly. Soon I noticed this was normal behaviour here, and people were tugging jackets all over the place, with the tug-ee not reacting at all.
I couldn't get used to it. Everytime I felt my jacket being tugged I had to stop myself from taking a swing at the person. My anxiety must have been noticed by the local pickpockets. What they started to do was pull my jacket, then try to grab my wallet as I was caught off guard. None of them were successful, and I moved it to my front pocket, keeping my hand in there.
I'd had just about enough of this place. I got out my cell phone to try and text the rest of the bands. But people around me would just tug my jacket, then try and steal the phone right out of my hand.
I made it back to the store and looked for the narrowest aisle I could find. I found one with a dead end, and I thought that was a safe place I could text from. I got the message off, staring through the chip bags between words, like a soldier in a trench.
I went to the front of the store and waited. I didn't know if they got the message or not. It was getting late and the store was going to close. I felt like I had gone to hell.
The end.
We were travelling in one vehicle, and everybody took off without me. They said they'd be back, but I had the distinct feeling they would not. As they drove off I looked on from a corner store. The neighbourhood was not a good one, but it was bizarre and not linked to reality at all.
Outside there were many roving gangs of what I'd describe as ultra-aggressive panhandlers. They looked and talked somewhere between Luther from the movie The Warriors and Scorpio from the first Dirty Harry flick. They would operate in groups of 8-10, surrounding passersby and getting right in their faces, literally inches from them. They'd threaten to kill them, torture them, and do all this other bad stuff if they didn't give up all their money. None of these threats seemed to be carried out though, and the people walking down the street would just ignore the gangs, acting like there was no one there no matter how aggressive they became.
Looking at all this, I knew I'd never survive here. Obviously, the locals were hardened and numb to this behaviour. There seemed to be a code of etiquette whereby as long as you showed no reaction, they wouldn't harm you but if you did, you were dead. I didn't think I had the nerves to survive this extreme level of harassment. I had to get out.
I summoned up all my courage and started walking down the street. I would just walk right the fuck out of there. But the city is pretty big, and I got discouraged fast. Avoiding the gangs was a real pressure cooker since they were everywhere. I decided the only escape was to climb up a tree. So I found one and climbed up.
Once I thought I was safe, I had a look around. I was shocked to see that two people had hung themselves in the tree I was in. Looking at other trees, every single one had someone hung from it... and not all by the neck. Some were contorted into weird positions, dying slow deaths up in the trees. Maybe the ground was a better place to be.
I decided I'd try and head back to the corner store, since I felt sort of safe there. The streets and sidewalks were very crowded. There seemed to be this weird rule where if you weren't walking fast enough, the person behind you could tug on your jacket as a sign to let them by. The first time someone did this to me, I nearly punched them, but they walked by me too quickly. Soon I noticed this was normal behaviour here, and people were tugging jackets all over the place, with the tug-ee not reacting at all.
I couldn't get used to it. Everytime I felt my jacket being tugged I had to stop myself from taking a swing at the person. My anxiety must have been noticed by the local pickpockets. What they started to do was pull my jacket, then try to grab my wallet as I was caught off guard. None of them were successful, and I moved it to my front pocket, keeping my hand in there.
I'd had just about enough of this place. I got out my cell phone to try and text the rest of the bands. But people around me would just tug my jacket, then try and steal the phone right out of my hand.
I made it back to the store and looked for the narrowest aisle I could find. I found one with a dead end, and I thought that was a safe place I could text from. I got the message off, staring through the chip bags between words, like a soldier in a trench.
I went to the front of the store and waited. I didn't know if they got the message or not. It was getting late and the store was going to close. I felt like I had gone to hell.
The end.
posted by the baron ash von foolishness at 6:44 PM
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