Dreaming of Red Wings

In this dream, I was wandering around the Ypsilanti Meijer, contemplating a visit to the liquor aisle even as I wasn’t sure exactly why I was there.  I had the vague feeling that my sister and mother were somewhere in the store, shopping for goods and sundries.  I wandered aimlessly, not heading towards the liquor aisle, instead drifting over to the meat section.

And lo and behold (now I laugh as I realize that they were seated in the meat section — like how mature my sleeping mind is?), a few of the Detroit Red Wings were seated at a row of tables, signing autographs and chatting pleasantly with fans!  I spotted Chris Osgood right away.  I literally “eeped!” and tore off to find my sister.  Running through Meijer and finding someone there is no easy task as many a Michigander will attest.  The aisles are constantly being switched around, the walls of products are big enough to hide a person from view, and most people think they’re the only ones shopping in the store — cart madness ensues.  I somehow made is past all these obstacles to find my sister, who was in the toy section (why?  I have no idea why).  “Chris . . . Osgood . . . meat . . . section,” I gasped out.  My sister also “eeped” and we tore off in the direction I came from, eager to get a glimpse of our hockey sweetie.

Upon arriving in the meat section, my sister and I squealed.  While I hemmed and hawed about approaching them, she went over, plopped herself in front of Chris Osgood, and began chatting animatedly.  I, on the other  hand, joked around with another woman who was around my age, both of us too shy to approach the tables.  Henrik Zetterberg grinned at me, nodding encouragement — I simply gave a weak wave.  Darren Helm, Nicklas Lidstrom and Jiri Hudler were all bemused by us.  My sister, meanwhile, continued to chat to Chris Osgood.  Lucky bitch!

She soon returned,  holding a signed Red Wings Stanley Cup commemorative book in her hands.  “To Dorkus Malorkus.  Best, Ozzie,” it read.  I finally screwed up my courage — looking up, though, the Wings had seemingly disappated into thin air, leaving behind empty chairs.  The crowd around us began to disperse and I was so disappointed I went for a run in a dress and ballet shoes.