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Thomas Pynchon Dream
2015-10-16 00:12:00 Post No. 7239934
Thomas Pynchon Dream
Post No. 7239934
Hey guys, I've been dreaming about Pynchon lately, and I dreamt about him most recently last night.
Here's what happened:
I'm in college, and I learn that one of my professors, a sardonic veteran academic who studied under Harold Bloom, knows Thomas Pynchon [not true, as far as I know]. Somehow or other, I convince him to let me meet him. Then suddenly we're waiting for him in my old middle school's library. We're eating lunch, having sandwiches, me and the professor, and we're waiting for Pynchon and his wife to show up.
My professor gives me a few ground rules. Don't draw attention to the fact that he's Pynchon. Don't ask him about his work. Don't even mention the titles of his books. I say, that's fine, having a sandwich with the guy is good enough for me, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I thank him again for doing me this favor.
Suddenly a man sits down next to me at our round wooden table and of course it's Pynchon and he says hey to my professor and they shake hands and then his wife comes into view across the table and my professor stands up and they hug and exchange warm greetings and mention how it's been a while and so on. Nobody's paying attention to me.
Then my professor introduces me and says Hey, this is Anon, a student of mine. Pynchon puts out his hand and says, "Hey there—Tom" and I put my hand in his and say, "Hey—Inherent Vice." And for a second I don't even realize I've said this, but I notice the mood's turned awkward. Then I say, "Sorry, I just realized that instead of my name I said Inher—you know. Sorry, my name's Anon, I don't know why I said that. Now this is simultaneously the best and worst moment of my life." They all laugh at that.
Pynchon's wife in the dream is an attractive woman in her late 40s with short blonde hair wearing a red dress, and she's funny and a good storyteller and at ease. She's mostly talking to my professor, and Pynchon and me mostly stay quiet. Then for some reason both his wife and my professor leave the table and it's just me and Pynchon. It's awkward, but I attempt the tactic of addressing the awkwardness head-on, in an effort to be funny and candid and also to impress Pynchon with my awareness. I say, "Looks like we're in the dreadful situation of being one-on-one." And Pynchon chuckles and says, "Looks like it."
I could lie and make up a funny ending, but that's actually where my memory ends. Sorry for the anticlimax.