Late Friday afternoon, I received a call from a friend. I talked to her a few weeks ago about meeting up, but nothing came of it until now. After exchanging the usual pleasantries (“I knew it, you can't live two weeks without me...”), she surprised me with something.
“I had a dream about you.”
“EH?!” was all my educated mind could think of in response.
“I had a dream about you. It was just the two of us, and we were dressed in white.”
“Yeah. You were wearing a white tuxedo. And you look good. I mean, really good.”
“Wow. Hmm...that's interesting. Can I put this on my blog?”
“Of course! By all means!”
“Cool,” I said, actually allowing the thought of someone thinking that I'm good looking sink in (even if it's in their dreams). “Is there anything else? Am I a good dancer? Didn't step on your toes or anything, did I?”
“Yes, I mean, no...Yes, you're a good dancer, and no, you didn't step on my toes. And I remember you didn't wear your glasses.”
“Ah. Was that why I was good looking? Are you trying to say that I'm not good looking in real life?”
“NO! Fikri..." she exasperated, probably shaking her head at the other end of the phone.
“But yeah, you didn't wear your glasses. And you looked really...passionate.”
This is too much. “Passionate?! How so?”
“I don't know, you just had this look about you. And we were dancing to a slow song. Every time I hear a slow song I think of you.”
“Really?” Pause. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yes, of course it is.”
Then the conversation moved on to other stuff which I am not prepared to divulge here. But at least we've learnt a few things today.
I am good looking, passionate, and a really good dancer.
Might have been the tuxedo, though.