I had another weird dream last night. I was on my way to a fashion show in New York – a Steve McQueen fashion show, no less! After passing through tight security, I walked into a big white tent with a runway running down the entire length of the tent. Glitter was all over the floor.

Looking around the room it looked like a crowd of who’s who of the entertainment world. J-Lo was there, but I don’t remember who the other stars were, I just remember they were very famous.

The only vacant seats left were in the front row directly in front of the runway. Each of the seats had a big white card on it with the name of the celebrity who it was saved for. The card on the end seat had Michael Bublé’s name on it. I remember that.

Then a lady with one of those walkie-talkie headsets came over and told me that I could have Michael Bublé’s seat. I looked at her strange and thought I had heard her incorrectly. “You want me to sit in Michael’s reserved seat?”, I said to her. “Yes!”, she replied, “Michael’s people called and said he wouldn’t be here, and to give his seat to anyone who still needed one. And you looked like you needed a seat, so take it.”

As she walked away, I glanced around at everyone sitting nearby. With the thumping bass music in the air, I knew they could not have heard what the lady said to me. Perception is reality, and I thought for sure all those people would probably think I was stealing a seat. So, I removed the name card and sat down. My face flushed bright red as I could feel everyone staring at me like I shouldn’t be there.

The other seats next to me started to fill and the show began. Almost to the end of the show, in walks Michael Bublé. As he passes in front of me to take the last empty seat in the row, he looks down at me and grins. He may as well have been up on the runway, because all eyes were on him. (I thought that lady told me he wasn’t coming to the show?)

The show ends, everyone applauds and starts milling about. I get up to leave and feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn, and it’s Michael. I’m thinking ‘what the heck?’ He starts talking and says, “It’s great to see you here, man. Did you like the show?” (He must be mistaking me for someone else.) I reply, “Yeah, it was cool. I’ve never seen anything like this before, and Steve McQueen’s got some really cool designs.”

(He responds to me with a bewildered look.)

Behind me I hear someone say, “Alexander. It’s Alexander McQueen, not Steve.” I glance back at Michael and give him an expression of ‘oops!’

The voice behind talks again, “Did you like the show?” (Why does everyone keep asking me that?) “Sure”, I say. The Voice says, “I can tell by the look on your face that you really didn’t like the show.”

“No, I did really. I just don’t know if I get it is all.”

We then got in an extended conversation about fashion and what’s up with all the drama and weird costumes on the runway when most of what’s in the show never actually ends up in stores. I can tell that both Michael and The Voice are both amused by my ignorance of it all. Then he says, “By the way, I’m Michael. (duh? I know), what’s your name?”

“I’m Corey.”

“Nice to meet you Corey.” (I think he then realizes I’m not who he must have thought I was.)

Then I turned to the guy I kept referring to in my head as The Voice and say, “And your name?

“Alexander”

Shit.

(I woke up, and realize I really gotta stop listening to music and channel surfing on the TV before I go to sleep. That stuff just sticks in my head and manifests as wacko dreams.)