I was up late as usual and decided I wanted a snack before I went to bed. For some reason coffee and dried apricots seemed the way to go. While waiting for my coffee, I cracked my right wrist which actually broke it and the pain was immense but when I look ed up, I noticed the light of a cell phone screen coming from just around the corner in the next room. I go in and find a guy crouching in the corner, under a table and ask him who the fuck he is. He asked the same of me with a surprising certainty for someone who broke in. He rattled off some names I had never heard before and said they lived here but this time the drunken tone was unmistakable. Hearing the bit of a quiver to his voice and the unsteady way in which he got to his feet, I took a kinder tone and said his friends don't live here, that he got the wrong house and that it was time to leave.
As I am leading him back to the front door, he makes a sudden turn down the hall. I ask him where the hell he thinks he's going but remember he's drunk so ask if he needs to go to the bathroom or something. His response is along the lines of go fuck yourself. Done talking at this point, I grab one of his legs by the ankle and start dragging him toward the door. After a few steps he tumbles and starts rifling through his pockets. I jump on him and grab his hands and pat his pockets to make sure he doesn't have a gun, knife, or my property. Fortunately, he must have dropped whatever he was looking for already in his drunken stupor.
While continuing to drag him out of my place, he makes a lot of noise, enough for my neighbor to come out and see what is happening. I ask her to call the police and she says she already had. At this, the guy tries to get up to run off but I told him that the time for leaving without police has passed. Still with a grasp on one leg, I force him to the ground, grab his other leg and hold them together with a death grip. Undeterred, he starts dragging us down the sidewalk. We are at this for some 10 minutes, getting several streets away before the police catch up finally.
The whole way going down the road, for some reason, I am hearing George Costanza talking about how he doesn't know how he had sex and how he feels used and I keep shouting that I don't care and I'm a too busy to listen to Seinfeld. I woke up with about 5 minutes left of the season 3 episode "The Fix-Up".
This is the only time I am aware of that real world noise made it into my dreams despite numerous attempts in bids for lucid dreams. Now that it actually happened, perhaps my next weird dream will be lucid.
what can i say, im sympathetic to the plight of the alcoholic lol