Showering in the gym, I wondered if I was actually the *me* that appears in my dreams, pain free, reporting from the Middle East or fighting crime in the US. An odd time for that revelation, but in all seriousness, my entire bike ride to the gym was like I was flying a small plane. I was moving into some sort of mental position.
Then I walked towards the pool, but looked at the Jacuzzi. This one guy who always sings about the Lord in the shower was bellowing some weird scripture and terrifying a Hispanic girl, her eyes were wide as saucers. I slipped between them, no one else was in the pool. Then the guy went on about how he hd just prayed for all the dead bodies that were invisible inside the whirlpool. Then he talked about the meteor showers and that it was the moon w\that stopped meteors from hitting the earth. The girl's boyfriend--whom I recognized, and he me--got him talking about aliens, which seemed a safe bet. I got out of the pool, not able to swim, I knew that. hen I went to take my real shower, and soap up and shave. When I opened the curtain, good old religious naked man was there, ready to spoil the news that the Cubs lost. I don't know if that is a weird enough experience to writ about, but all I did afterwards was buy milk at Fairplay and then ride home.
