Dream of the Poseur Boys and the Lost Phone

[mallorys_camera]

Dreamed I was sitting in a café following some sort of elaborate graduation ceremony. In a burst of nostalgia, I was wandering from table to table, and espied a group of girls I’d always found intriguing though I wasn’t sure where I knew them from, so I sat down at their table to chat for a couple of seconds.

I recognized that one of the girls had actually started school in the class that had just graduated but hadn’t graduated. I wondered—had she taken a year off? I thought (though I wasn’t sure) that the girls at this table were in the class one year behind me. So I asked her about that—and she said something to me that was completely unintelligible.

I asked her to repeat it, and it was just as unintelligible the second time.

So, I just pretended I understood. She was mentally unstable—that I got.

At a table a little distant from me sat a group of poseur boys. Plump, ringleted hair. The type who never exercise, smoke cigars and talk a lot about Aleister Crowley and polyamory.

The café was on upper Flatbush Avenue—not the Flatbush Avenue in real life but the Flatbush Avenue of my dreams, which is always this immensely hilly road, adorned with strange buildings. Somehow I had ended up with the phone that belonged to one of the poseur boys, and he had ended up with mine!

This was a problem because I had errands to do and now could do none of them.

The phone was in an elaborate case that had a little pad of paper and a stylus and a bunch of other cool things. There was no name or address, though. And I wondered how long it might take me to guess the phone password because naturally I wanted to spy on as much of the poseur boy’s life as possible before I had to give the phone back.

I was supposed to catch a bus. The buses didn’t come often, but I had to miss one because phone…

I decided to run back to the café. No doubt one of the boys was still sitting at the table, and I could set up some sort of exchange—

But when I got back to the café, the boys were gone.

Comments

[asakiyume]

This dream seems so eminently possible; I can imagine all the details of it actually occurring, though maybe not all in the same day.

I have the impression that guessing someone's password is way harder than it's made out to be unless you know the person, and even then--but maybe I'm not a very good guesser. My mind, though, tends to run down one set of options, whereas really the person will have chosen something maybe very obvious, but based on a whole other train of thought.

he type who never exercise, smoke cigars and talk a lot about Aleister Crowley and polyamory. --Yes, I know exactly the type; have interacted with the type online.

[mallorys_camera]

There's a science fiction show I'm very fond of called Travelers. And in one episode, the mad hacker genius has 10 seconds to break a smartphone password.

"Do you know their birthdays or their pets' names?" he asks,

And I had to laugh because yep and yep.

[asakiyume]

I enjoy that show too! Is that Philip who says that?

[mallorys_camera]

Of course! :-)

[moondance66]

I love Travellers, too! I was heartbroken when I realized it didn't get another season.

[mallorys_camera]

I was sad, too. It's a really great show.