Sephora

The dream starts out with me going with some guy, not Benn, but someone... to a Science World-y type place. Admission gates, arrows on the floor, high ceilings, concessions etc., fill this enormous circular room. The guy and I go and sit in this weird video game type thing, with a bench seat in it behind the control panel. Of course, because it's a dream and it's full of insecurities and frustrations, I don't fit in the damn seat. This is why I think it was some place for kids. Or perhaps I was immensely fat in this dream... Let's not think about it.

My mom arrives and the three of us head to a concession stand. The guy and my mom get hot dogs and try to pressure me into getting one too. I argue with them, saying that they'll make me sick. We all walk through a door and it leads to a mall. While they eat their hot dogs, I wander over to the Gap. Once inside, it's really Sephora. I start browsing around and I see that they have palettes for $20. I think of two ladies who would like them, so I get two, for Christmas. My mom arrives and we head to the till.

Once at the till, the till becomes a bar, and I'm waiting for some incompetent waitress to finish at her table so she can ring me in. Their table is obviously annoyed with her. She walks behind the bar, slips in something and totally gumbys to the floor. It's really pretty impressive. I ask if she's okay, and she assures me it happens a lot. Some other guy arrives near a till and starts to ring me in. He screws it up somehow and has to undo whatever it was that he did. He undercharges me, but then shorts me on change so it works out about right. Then he walks away, leaving me with these two things on the counter and for some reason, a huge thermos has appeared on the counter. I ask him for a bag and he says "oh sure" and walks away. My mom and I start exchanging looks of irritation. After a while, it's clear that he's not coming back. So I ask some other guy for a bag, and he says the same thing, but does nothing. I'm totally pissed now, and wondering why the hell these douchey shmoes are working at Sephora in the first place. They aren't the make up artist type of guys. They're the sport bar type of guys.

Then Marty, some local musician for some band I can't remember at the moment, gets in line and my mom says something about still waiting for a bag. Marty goes behind the counter (apparently he works there but today is his day off) and starts bagging my makeup, and empties out my thermos into a sink. I tell him that's my thermos and he puts it into the bag. He's totally nice and cool and my mom and I are just happy that someone competent has helped us, even more impressively, on his day off.

That's all I remember. It's not a very good dream, but it's the only one I remember.