Last week, I had a dream that a pygmy spilled his drink on me. I was seated at a crowded bar with a friend and the pygmy — for some reason— was sending back a pitcher of beer to the barman. He had on one of those hats that the magician of the Kiini Macho TV Show of the 80s wore. A pinkish velvet hat trick. He also had a beard and small naughty eyes.
He didn’t apologise. He just turned and walked away and so I ran after him. In my dream, I remember thinking, this is childish, stop running after a pygmy who has spilled a drink on you; he couldn’t reach the counter for crying out loud. I tapped him on the shoulder and said: “You just spilled your beer on me, bro!” He asked, “So?” He was an arrogant little punk, smug face and all. In the dream, bodaboda guys gathered around us, watching this standoff with their helmets on.
“So you apologise!” I shrieked. “Why? It wasn't my fault!” he retorted and strolled away, swinging his small hands in small arcs. I remember being furious.
Back at my bar I complained to my friend, “that’s the thing, he thinks he can just spill his drink on people because he’s a pygmy. I wish I’d have pinched his cheek. “My friend said simply, “Pygmies are very strong.”
Anyway, I don’t remember anything after that. I woke up. But I wasn’t angry anymore. I lay there thinking about the dream and trying to think back the last time I dreamt about a pygmy. I honestly can't recall. “Why do you think I dreamt about a pygmy,” I asked another friend of mine who is born again. “Is there any significance? Was it metaphoric? Did he represent something stunted in me? An unfulfilled need?” My friends said it's nothing. It's only a dream.
“Maybe you just miss sitting in a bar.” I just hope someone is reading this. Some of us are losing our minds, dreaming about starting fights with pygmies. It can only get worse.