I got a pair of Joe Mauer sunglasses. I don’t remember exactly where they were from, but I knew they were rare, so I was super jazzed about then. They had sort of boxy lenses with thick blue frames and a picture of Joe Mauer’s beautiful smiling face in the corner, almost like a pair of pink sunglasses a little girl would wear with a picture of a Disney Princess in the corner. So, yes, they were pretty dorky looking, but that’s what made them so cool to me. Like fanny packs.
I was super jazzed to show off my Joe Mauer sunglasses at the next Twins game I went to, but when I got there with my Mom, we found our seats were in the shade. They were nice seats, but I certainly didn’t need to be wearing sunglasses to watch the game. The sunglasses came with a small cloth pouch, so I put them on the ground without worrying about them being scratched. I knew I wouldn’t step on them because of the years I spent practicing not knocking over my beers on the ground with my feet in the Metrodome and the Target Field bleachers, where there were/are no cup holders.
The Twins got a big hit at some point, and everyone jumped up in excitement. Soon after, I noticed my glasses on the ground not where I thought they had been. I took them out of the cloth case and the lenses were cracked. The lady sitting next to me had stepped on them. I turned to her and showed her the broken glasses, and said, “You stepped on my glasses.”
She obviously hadn’t done in on purpose, and felt sort of bad. “I’ll buy you a new pair of glasses,” she offered. I had to explain these were really rare sunglasses, Joe Mauer sunglasses, and she couldn’t just “buy” another pair. She apologized again, and I passively-aggressively apologized saying it was partly my fault because I should have never put them on the ground in the first place, Of course, I was only apologizing as such because I’m Minnesotan, not because I wasn’t mad that she curb-stomped my Joe Mauer sunglasses, that bitch.
The woman and I went to a Twins merchandise booth where we tried to remedy things in a way that was inexpensive for her and would still keep me quietly seething in rage. I told the Twins attendants at the booth that she had broken my Joe Mauer sunglasses. They seemed sorry for me. I can’t remember what they offered me, it was like a Homer Hanky or something, but I remember one kid came there and bought a stack of maybe 36 Milwaukee Brewer balaclavas (with the original mitt logo), which they were for some reason selling at a Twins game. The kid said they were for all his siblings and cousins at the game with him, which were apparently plentiful, and his parents had instructed him that everyone needed the same gift.
Eventually, the game ended. My Mom and I were being picked up far away from the stadium so we were walking through the skyways, which were much darker than I ever remember. We eventually reached an area called the “Skyway Mall”, which had small shops and stands along the walls in what apparently seemed to be the old concourse of the Metrodome. At this point, both my Mom and I were lost. My Mom went down an enclosed set of stairs, and when I tried to follow her a newly arrived guard told me to stop. I told him my Mom had gone down that way and I was just trying to follow her, and he said it didn’t lead anywhere, so she would be back. I stood in the concourse waiting for a couple minutes, and noticed a pile of old Metrodome seats off to the side. I wanted to steal one, or part of one, but figured it would be better to come back later with Dana Wessel of the 96.3 GO morning show and steal a bunch of things when there were fewer people looking.
My Mom eventually came back, and the guards told us we had to go up another set of stairs to the roof, walk across to the center, and then take the elevator down to get out. He directed us to the right doors, which led to some stairs that took us to the roof of the Metrodome.
Walking across the roof of the Metrodome was like a dream to me. It felt like a bouncy house mixed with a giant, poofy, white down quilt. I laid down in it. I wanted to take a selfie, but no picture I could take would ever be adequate for the moment. I was on the roof of the Metrodome! After taking it in for a few minutes, and a little bit of climbing effort, I reached the top of the Metrodome where the elevator was that would take us down to...
When I woke up.
It had all been a nightmare. My Joe Mauer sunglasses were still perfectly fine and unbroken. No kid had ever bought 36 Milwaukee Brewer balaclavas at a Twins game. While I was disappointed I was never actually on the Metrodome roof, visiting it in my dreams was probably the closest I would ever get.
I got up and brushed my teeth, and then took my dog out on a walk.
And then I actually woke up.
The Joe Mauer sunglasses I dreamed about have never existed. I don’t have a dog. The Metrodome, my favorite place in the world, hasn’t existed for five or so years. It was even more of a nightmare than I had even thought...
Or was it?
This sequence was...
This poll is closed
a fever dream.
a peyote trip.
as real as reality.