I dream of an arrest

I dream a lot.

I had a dream last night that I was pulled over by a very white state trooper and arrested for having a blood alcohol level of 2.5. Now, I’m not a scientist and wasn’t one in this particular dream, but I know that a BAC of 2.5 is impossible. I had read an article a while back about the lethal blood alcohol level being around 0.55 and knew he was wrong. I tried to tell the trooper this (in my dream) and didn’t really get anywhere:

“Sir, please step out of the car. You just blew a 2.5.”

A 2.5? Um, sir, not to call your little black machine there broken, but that’s impossible. I didn’t even drink today.

“Sir, I’m just telling you what the breathalizer is telling me and it’s telling me that you’re drunk. Besides, you were driving erratically. Please step out of the car.”

Of course I was driving erratically! I’m Latino. I don’t know how to drive without swerving. It’s a neurological thing.

“Officer 492, request for back-up. Latino male resisting arrest.”

Then he handcuffed me. Then I woke up.

Most people wouldn’t worry about this dream, but I come from the Latino school of believing that all dreams mean something. What does this dream mean?

I started writing down my dreams moments after waking up several years ago. Sometimes they mean nothing and then other times it gives me a window or a different perspective into what is happening in my life.

Then I realized that I’m going to be going out of town tomorrow, I’m going to Austin, Texas. I’m pretty sure that a lot of drinking is going to be involved. Why do I know this? Well, mi Linda is dragging me to a music festival where I’m sure there will be bad music. Not all bad music, but knowing mi Linda, I’ll be listening to some gringo singing about his Thunderbird, Chevy or both. I know that alcohol isn’t the answer, but it dulls the pain. A Thunderbird shouldn’t be put to music. That’s a belief I have.

Right now I’m convinced that I’m going to be arrested in Austin, Texas. If it was any other state, I wouldn’t be worried, but Texas scares me. The state warns you not to mess with it with signs every other mile. I’m afraid people. So, here we go. For my readers in Texas, I have a favor to ask you.

If you happen to see a ridiculously good looking Guatemalan with a perfect mustache being arrested for blowing a 2.5, please, please, come to his aid.

Austin City Limits here I come.

Mucho Amor,

El Guapo

PS: I will try to blog from Texas, but I’m not sure if I will be given access to the Internet from jail.