One More for the Evening
Last night I had this dream. I was on a bus somewhere. A few seats behind me, at the back of the bus, were two Arab-looking guys. There was a third Arab-looking guy ahead of me a few seats, and somehow I knew they were all together. I also somehow figured out that they a) thought I was Jewish, and b) wanted to hurt me.
So I'm sitting there, on this crowded bus, contemplating the possibility of being assaulted by some random strangers because of their mistaken beliefs about my ethnicity, and considering my options. Of course, I could explain to them that I'm not Jewish, and in my dream, I even had an ID card or passport or something that would prove I'm not Jewish. On the other hand, I could just pre-emptively beat the snot out of all three of them.
Which I proceeded to do.
It was a wierd feeling, because I've never hit anyone, waking or dreaming. Yet there I was, totally pounding on these guys, kicking them long after they were unconscious on the floor of the bus, the rest of the passengers somewhere between disinterested and totally oblivious, while the driver kept on driving.
When I woke up, it occurred to me that, given that I had just beaten up three Arabs in a pre-emptive strike for self-preservation, maybe I actually am Jewish, and nobody ever told me. Huh. Maybe tonight in my dreams I'll learn to make matzoh ball soup, or fire rockets into Gaza or something.