I Told You, Didn't I?

About the dreams, I mean. I did tell you. This is what I was dreaming about last night.

www.topgear.com

I was in a lovely seaside town somewhere in continental Europe. Perhaps Spain, Italy or southern France. I was filming the TV show Top Gear with Richard Hammond and James May. I was Jeremy Clarkson. We were gathered outside a nice little café or a restaurant. One of those with large windows at the front so you can see the people sitting at the tables beside said window. I was sitting inside, having lunch with someone I went to school with more than ten years ago. It's closer to fifteen years, now that I start doing the math. Anyway, the me sitting in the restaurant is the me sitting here typing this. The other me, the Jeremy Clarkson -me is outside filming and looks in through the window and sees me-me. Still with me? No? No matter, I shall carry on regardless.

Clarkson -me has some sort of a mini-aneurysm and decides he's madly in love with me-me. Clarkson-me takes out a sheet of A4 and a pen and scribbles out a note saying "MARRY ME PLEASE" and shoves it up against the restaurant window for me-me to see. Me-me jumps up off of her seat, gives out a big squeal and runs outside. At this stage I stop being both me-me and Clarkson-me and I'm just me. Clarkson has turned into that old school mate I was just having lunch with. I said yes. To the Clarkson/school mate hybrid.

And you wonder why I wake up exhausted and confused...