Crazy Dream

April and I were at the movie theater. It was a small one, with only three or four screens. At this particular theater, the price to see a just-released movie was $13.00. (Not too far off the reality price here in the Northeast for a weekend-night.) Movies that had been out for at least a couple of weeks were only $5.25.

Well, I wanted to see "Stardust." Now, this movie has been out for about three weeks, so I expected to pay $5.25 each. So when the cashier told me that would be $26, I was mad. I refused to pay that much to see that (or any) movie, and suggested to April that instead we go rent one.

April wasn't too happy with that, but didn't protest. She waited out in front of the theater while I brought the car around. In my car (a crazy car for a crazy dream) I had to pay money to activate the passenger-side air bag. That's right, I had to insert bills just like a vending machine. The bill taker was inside the glove box. Since the movie theater was only a couple of blocks from our house, I didn't activate the airbag on our trip there. But since the rental store was much further away, I felt that it was prudent to activate the air bag this time. So, I opened the glove box and inserted fifteen dollars to activate the passenger air bag. That's right, fifteen bucks just so it would work if necessary.

As I was driving through the parking lot to pick up April, I realized that was a ridiculous sum. It would almost be just as much to stay and watch the movie. Then I thought, hey, this is my car! Where does that money go? Can't I retrieve my money somehow? It's like owning your own coin-operated gumball machine. You get your own money back.

(April got a kick out of this one. Even in my dreams I squabble about high prices.)