naked while driving

It's because I'm kinda bored and sorta lonely that the dream I dreamt last night has any significance whatsoever. You see, there are only 5 occupied trailers in this here little trailer park: two couples and two single women besides me. And the heat and humidity have been intense. The sea has been in a roiling frenzy. It smells FISHY. Living in an air-conditioned tin box certainly has its claustrophobic moments. Now, I'm not really complaining, just giving you an idea of what it's like in a little Mexican village with no bars, restaurants, air-conditioned malls, bookstores...you get the drift.

It wasn't too long ago that I began giving serious thought to the idea that I'd like to be in a relationship. I never thought much about it before; I figured I was meant to be alone and I accepted that and pretended that I embraced it but I never really did. So now I'd like to be in a relationship, but I'm getting older, time is moving at a pretty fast clip, and I'm living somewhere where the likelihood of finding a life partner is pretty darn slim...maybe none.

Last night I dreamed about this handsome married man I slept with a few months before coming to Mexico. I steer clear of involvements with married men but with him it was a little different because he had been living apart from his wife for over 5 years, she way up in the NE corner of the U.S and he way down in the SW, and it seemed like the divorce was being put off till the kids were out of college. He was one of those guys that my bartender friend and I agreed was just too good-looking for either of us - we always used the word "handsome" in front of his name. The Bartender would say, "Handsome Greg was in...."

One day me and Handsome passed on the frontage road - me in my 1-ton van and Handsome on his shiny black Harley. We stopped and he coasted over to my window. "So this is what you drive", he said. "Yep. Watching me get out of the van is kind of like a circus act - a midget jumping off the back of an elephant." He was on his way to the bar and so I told him I'd meet him there after I dropped off a can of Dinty-Moore stew (or whatever it's called) for the pre-jailbird Jailbird.

When I walked in the bar he was standing between my former crush, a biker who dropped me for a meth-addicted skinny broad, and a single guy I had met the week before, a vegetable importer. Handsome said to my bartender friend "Get Antonia a drink," and Crush said "Get her a drink on me," and Vegetable said "I want to buy Antonia a drink, too." The Bartender said "Wow, it sure is good to be you tonight."

And it was because Handsome and I talked for hours after the other two guys left and then it was too late for him to ride home on his bike and so I offered my bed and sex was great and fun and relaxing.

And I never heard from him after that.

But just before I left for Mexico, I ran into him twice. The first time was at a bar near the town he lives in. He was more handsome than usual, wearing khaki pants and a white linen shirt. Conversation was a little awkward but we made it through and when I left I thought "whew, I'm glad that's over." A couple days later I saw him at my bar. He was at the other end and I didn't go over to talk to him. In fact I pretended I didn't see him until the bartender walked over and said "Greg bought you this drink" and then I looked up all surprised and nodded my thanks. He was with guy friends but out of the corner of my eye I could see that he kept sneaking glances at me. On his way out the door he stopped by my stool, gave me a hug and said "you look great" and that was it.

Last night I dreamed that he was wearing that white linen shirt. We climbed in his car and both driver and passenger seats reclined all the way back and we took off our clothes and had sex while the car was moving. Somehow he was steering with his toes. I could see through the sunroof that we had run a red light, so we pulled over and got dressed and went out to dinner and he bought me a beautiful bottle of wine - an expensive Barolo, I'm sure.

A dream like that is way shy of the real thing but I woke feeling happy, like it was a good sign. Like someone could show up here, or will show up when I get back to Arizona. Or, how about this scenario: I grab that credit card of mine and buy a plane ticket to Galway, Ireland, and begin stalking Ken Bruen! I think he's my soulmate...(next post "why Ken Bruen and I are made for each other").