Como Un Buen Tequila

I've had the same dream every night for the past five days. I'm actually looking forward to sleep to see where this dream leads me tonight. Hopefully there will be a sixth night of this dream. There has to be a reason for the dream I thought as I finished the last bit of tequila I had been slowly sipping for the past hour. Jose Cuervo Gold. OK, so it wasn't one of the new top shelf tequilas that are in vogue, but I liked it and with the economy as it is, I felt I was doing my part. 

As I lay my head down this night and pulled up the covers I immediately went from wakefulness to that state of semi sleep, hypnagogia I think it's called, and with like any sleep, it blanketed me without my knowledge, and I was once again visited by Hypnos. On cue the same dream began evolving and I was cast as a player into the scene.

Looking around the tiny smoke filled cantina I could spot a few patrons in boots and cowboy hats playing pool. An attractive senorita was sitting alone at a table near the front door talking on her cell phone, and Jesus Christ was the bartender. "Uno Mas Tequila por favor," I called out as Jesus reached for the top shelf and took down a dust covered bottle of Jose Cuervo.  As he filled the shot glass to the rim he said, "This is your last call Cowboy." As I sipped the golden nectar from my glass I could hear Marty Robbins singing El Paso on the jukebox.  Damn, this is cool I thought as I slowly drank the last swallow of  tequila and lit a cigarette. As soon as I took my first drag of the unfiltered Lucky Strike, Jesus said, "It's closing time partner, you want me to call you a cab?" Before I could answer, the attractive senorita who was sitting by the door got up and offered me a ride home. "No thanks, I can drive", I said. "After all I'm immortal, right Jesus?"

"Yeah, you're immortal Cowboy, whatever you say.  Hey guys let's tie all these loose ends up.  I need to close this bar, if I don't my dad will be pissed almighty." "OK", I said. "I'll see you tomorrow same time, same place. Hey and if you don't mind, could you get rid of that cheap crap you pour and invest in a bottle of Patron?" Jesus smiled and said, "Hey cowboy, do you remember that story you wrote about me once, Dieu Est Un Poisson?" "Yeah, I remember, why do you ask?"  "My Dad thought it was freakin awesome," came Jesus’  reply.

I awoke that next morning with a realization that God has a wicked sense of humor.

On the seventh night, the dream was gone. I could finally rest. God rested just like the Bible said he did. 

The seventh day was made for rest.

Si, Jesus es mi mejor amigo...si.