Triple Toe Loop (A Dream I Actually Had)

I lived in a spacious loft apartment in downtown Los Angeles. The BREWERY was the name of the loft community. Which really exists, by the way. I was there with my boyfriend Naughty Nurse and three of our friends: Kitty Charles, Ricky Brazil, and Joely. This was an enormous space. Below us lived John Zimmerman; the sexy, hunky figure skater currently on Skating With Celebrities. I can't recall who he lived with. But, in my dream, John Z lived in squalor. It was disgusting. He was doing drugs and always having parties. His apartment had no furniture and he and his housemates all slept on one huge mattress on the floor in the middle of the loft space. He was, simply, a nuisance.

It was early morning and the music from John Z's apartment was blaring. My boyfriend and I awoke in a fury. Naughty Nurse reached for his earplugs. But I, apparently, was plain fed up with this bullshit. So were my other housemates. I went downstairs to try and solve things on my own. I knocked on John Z's door. He answered shirtless, sweaty, and in his underwear. Now, in my real life this would normally be a very sexy image. In my dream, however, I knew it meant he was cracked out of his mind. I wasn't turned on in any way, shape, or form. I asked him sternly to turn down the music, some of us worked nights and were still trying to sleep at 8:30 in the morning. He grabbed me by the arm and threw me into his apartment. I struggled to breakaway from his grip. He led me to this dank and dirty room where there were all kinds of women. They were all smoking out of crack pipes and scantily clad. It dawned on me that I was possibly being abducted by John Zimmerman and his bevy of working girls. I was forced to smoke crack with them, which I failed at miserably. The music was so loud this entire time. I was so frightened that my boyfriend and housemates would never find me.

Just as John Z was climbing on top of me to pin me down for some reason (drugs, sex, fun...who knows?), Fupa walked by the window. I guess she lived in Los Angeles as well. I don't know why she was there. The dream didn't tell me. As a matter of fact, in the dream I didn't know Fupa personally. She was an innocent passer-by. She passed by the window and noticed something weird. What she saw was me in a very compromising and strained position. She called 9-1-1. I made eye contact with her and could see she was there to help. She saw the fear and frustration in my eyes.

The police arrived instantly. (So, unlike L.A.) By the time they arrived I was in a full fledge brawl with John Zimmerman. Fisticuffs. Kicking, punching, wrestling practically. The police breakdown the door and behind them stand my housemates and boyfriend still in their pajamas. John Zimmerman tried to woo the cops with his good looks, charm, and fame. He tried to pay them off. He tried to get us kicked out of the building. I can't remember what happened next. I do know that John Z was handcuffed and before they took him away, I punched him in the face. Then my housmates went over to the stereo that was still blaring music and began to kick at it break it into pieces.

Suddenly, I woke up. It was 8:30 in the morning, and the upstairs neighbor of my apartment building in midtown Manhattan was blaring "He Wasn't Man Enough For Me" by Toni Braxton. I couldn't believe how loud it was. I couldn't go back to sleep. I turned to see if my boyfriend was affected. He had his earplugs in.

Let's just say the upstairs neighbor is lucky she's not a sexy figure skating champion, and that I love that song!