Xeroxed bagles.
It is 2:00am, and I've just arisen from a dream in which (among other odd things) Match.com notified me via phone text-message that I was in close proximity to somebody who I should meet. It was an odd little game, in fact, with my phone giving me directions about which room I should go into in order to meet this secret person, and only a short amount of time to do it before the opportunity was gone.
In the dream, the secret person was (rather awkwardly) an old classmate who sadly had no interest in having sex with me whatsoever, but I'm still intrigued by the concept. It sounds technologically feasible, at least to a degree, given my phone's ability to report my location. Then again, a high school teacher of mine used to warn us of the dangers of acting on ideas made when not fully-awake with a story about an associate who'd once jumped up from a deep meditation yelling "I've done it! I've solved world hunger! Xerox bagels!"
So. Am I xeroxing bagels here, or what?
In the dream, the secret person was (rather awkwardly) an old classmate who sadly had no interest in having sex with me whatsoever, but I'm still intrigued by the concept. It sounds technologically feasible, at least to a degree, given my phone's ability to report my location. Then again, a high school teacher of mine used to warn us of the dangers of acting on ideas made when not fully-awake with a story about an associate who'd once jumped up from a deep meditation yelling "I've done it! I've solved world hunger! Xerox bagels!"
So. Am I xeroxing bagels here, or what?