In no particular order, last night's involved us driving a fire truck through Boston and over a bridge. We couldn't turn around and the brakes barely worked. We turned the sirens on at one point and thought, "Eff it, let's just drive this thing 'til it runs out of gas."
Then there was the one where we took the stage and the bar manager cut the power. We have this one a lot.
And then the other night, we were playing softball and we faked like we missed the pick-off throw. When we ran toward the "ball," we grabbed a golf ball and feigned trying to throw it while the runner broke for home. We then discarded said golf ball and threw a perfect and easy strike home to nail the runner. The other team claimed shenanigans, and we might have yelled, "Hey, whadayagonnado?" at them. Then we woke up.
We think we were playing for the Phillies in this dream. Why they're playing softball, well, we're sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere.
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