primary dreams

Last night, I dreamt that my Dad and I went to an Obama concert. Since Barack was going to perform rather than speak, it was kind of on the down-low, so it wasn’t very crowded. As the moment of the show neared, Barack sat down at our cocktail table and made small talk (“yeah,” I said, “my sister and I tried to see you a the Boston rally, but we couldn’t get in, so it’s nice for me to get a chance to see you again”) but we soon ran out of things to say. Barack just sat there. It was weird that no one else wanted to come over and chat with him.
I was curious to see how Barack would dress for this more casual occasion, and he didn’t disappoint; he wore a multi-colored houndstooth blazer with khaki pants, and as he walked away from us and towards the stage, I saw that he was wearing high-top sneakers, unlaced. A woman nearby remarked that he was so much more handsome in person, and I had to agree.

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