Racing with my imagination

In the peak heat of the day, I decided to get some power nap. Not long, my eyes went shut (Damn! It is easier to sleep during the day than during the night.). As I drifted further into my REM stages, my imagination side of the brain runs wild. It starts to get its daily exercise on life. Not my life, but the brain’s. It has perfect control over my body.

As soon as my brain starts to go to work, I found that I was driving my mum’s car on the street road heading towards the general hospital’s 4-junction traffic light. I was just gliding through the blazing hot sun with a Lauren Conrad-type sunglass when suddenly a Ferrari F430 Scuderia past by me in a flash. I am the only one in my family who will initiate racing madness with strangers on the road, no matter whether I am in a good or bad mood, hot or cold, traffic or no traffic. And this is no exception. My brain told my foot to put more weight on the throttle and ZOOM I went.. well, with the car of course. I was coming from Tesco’s direction and there is a flyover on the right. And I am not supposed to follow the right lane. But I did, just because my adrenalin (and my very imaginative brain) told me to chase that red hot chili pepper with wheels. Now, to remind you, I did not notice who the driver is. It does not really matter to me whether my self-named opponent is a male or female, Caucasian/Asian/Latino/Latina, etc. I just find the thrill in racing with an alive Jane/John Doe.

Out of the sudden, the flyover ended with a tol booth (now, where did that come from Brain? It is not in the freaking map!). (At this point, I decided to give my brain a name. But not sure what yet…) There was a junction to the left and I was supposed to turn into it because I do not want to get into another, in this case, unknown state that my brain has created. But noooo… my heart says NO! But my brain who has the control to every existing muscle in my body says otherwise. So, I was hoping that in between the opposite lanes after this booth, there will be an opening for me to do a U-turn back to where I came from before I noticed that striking red jalapeño. And fortunately, there was an opening. I sighed a relief.

To my surprise, a little Indian boy (like the one from Slumdog Millionaire) is the one working in the booth. Now I have nothing against Indians or little kids. Nor I’m a sick pedophile. I rolled down the windscreen and small fingers attached to an arm came towards me.

The little boy asked, “Where’s your chip?”

I said, “What chip?”

Little boy: “The chip for you to be able to pass through this red and white bar. *pointing towards it.*”

I said, “I didn’t receive any chip when I came through. Is this some kind of a joke?”

The little boy looked at me disgusted by my actions. He expressed a face that says I ruined his fun-filled day collecting chips at this lovely and comfy booth of his. Then he turned to look inside of the booth and another face popped beside him. He looked adult. With army hair and tight jaw. Lean with an oblong face. He was in a dark blue suit.

Me: (Oh geez.. He is an official personnel.)

Angry-looking officer: “You, miss, where is your chip?”

Me: “I do not have it, sir. As what I told the boy. *pointing at him*”

Angry-looking officer: “No no! No chip, no GO!”

Me: Here I was, trying to figure out the nationality of the brute-looking officer when he spoke to me. I tried and tried to search in my tacit knowledge repository, but zero results came out. His accent is just out of this world. Maybe he’s an alien. Like the ones in the movie, “Race to Witch Mountain”.

I was already sweating like nobody’s business in the scorching heat. I was shaking and trembling for fear I will be accused for something I did not do. Like lying to a police officer and that my accomplice is hiding in my trunk with marijuana given as a gift from Mr Snoop Doggy Dog while partying wildly at his crib in L.A.

As soon as he was stepping out the booth where he was a resident temporarily with a black-scary-looking baton, my alarm rang.

I am well aware that the ending is such a turn off. But what can I do? It ended just like that. One thing is for sure, my brain is frustrated and angry with me. I am sure it will throw a tantrum tonight.

Cheers.