Last night I had a dream that my wife and I were going to see U2 in concert. It was a great ordeal as the entire drive to concert was wraught with trials. Rain, a few detours, and much confusion on the directions. Finally we got there and we're waiting in the lobby, this concert was in a hotel of sorts, when up walks Bono. He starts chatting with my family meanwhile I'm speachless. My mom goes, "Chris isn't this that irish fellow you like so much." I think I make some sort of gutteral, "uh huh" sound. Finally I manage to reach into my backpack and ask, "You autograph thing for me?" He gives me an Irish, "Sure." I fumble and bumble in my pack for about ten minutes pulling out pictures of U2, posters, a few cds, and finally find the Atomic Bomb cd and hand it to him. He signs it upside down and then gets up and informs us he has to get to the show.
Thing is we do too! But then wifey's mom calls and she's gravely ill. So wifey leaves to be with her mother but allows me to stay to go see the concert. Problem is, I can't figure out how to get there. The Hotel was huge and apparently the complex Hotel spaned four corners of a city street. I look out the window and can see the concert, but cannot for the life of me figure out how to get there. But I figure its all OK, since I got Bono's autograph and can make everyone in the world jealous when I post on my blog that I met Bono... then I woke up.... stupid reality.