So in my dream after herding a bunch of kittens around the Seminole Hard Rock Casino, which looked an awful lot like the Showboat in AC, I wandered off by myself to the poker room to pick up some commemorative chips. The girl at the cage, who was in fact Amelia, the stage manager for Dearly Beloved, was very helpful, and then I meandered off to find myself a table.
After making sure to relieve myself of any extra $50 bills.
As I wandered around the poker room, which looked an awful lot like the poker room at the Imperial Palace two years ago when it was tucked away upstairs and no one could ever find it, I finally asked for a seat in the black chip game (asking why they even had black chips in a casino where the max NL buy-in as $100), and as I reached around to get my cash, realized my wallet wasn't in my front pocket where I usually keep it.
And my cell phone was also gone.
As panic began to set in, I raced out of the poker room to begin to assess my options.
1) I had enough for a buy-in. That was covered.
2) Al was there, and Al would cover me for food and booze if I needed him to.
3) I needed to find someone with a cell phone so I could call Suzy and cancel all my credit cards, and see if anyone could Fedex me a new card to Florida. (Yes, in my dream I was at a WPBT gathering in Florida) It was Thursday, so they could ship it Friday for Saturday delivery.
Then I realized my car keys were missing as well, and really started to freak out, until I found my car keys in a jacket pocket instead of clipped to my belt loop, and my cell phone was actually in my pocket.
Then I realized that I actually had my wallet, but someone had lifted it out of my back pocket, emptied it, and put it back in my pocket.
At that moment a blogger with an accent walked up and asked where everyone was. He looked kinda like Devilfish, and was even more incomprehensible, but he offered to buy me a drink. So I looked up Karol in my cell phone speed dial and told folks where we going to drink. And that somebody else was buying my booze for the weekend.
Then I woke up, and realized that I was still in NC, still in bed with my wife, and that my wallet was still in my pants pocket from the night before. But I checked anyway.
So what have we learned from Falstaff's nightmare, kiddies?
1) Don't carry your wallet in your back pocket in crowds.
2) In a pinch, you can count on Al, even in your subconscious.
3) I need to be in Vegas with all you degenerates.
See you next month!