Banjo tuner: Sorry I’m late for the tuning.
Banjo tunee: I thought it was tomorrow.

Banjo tuner: I have it marked down for today.
Banjo tunee: Well, on my Smart Calendar it’s written in for tomorrow.

Banjo tuner: Yes, but you’ve written it in for Wednesday.
Banjo tunee: Exactly.

Banjo tuner: Today is Wednesday.
Banjo tunee: Today?

Banjo tuner: Bingo bango bongo.
Banjo tunee: You don’t mean…

Banjo tuner: Hump day.
Banjo tunee: Um, this may be a little off topic, but why are you naked?

Banjo tuner: I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. I took a shower this morning and was about to get dressed when I realized I was really late. I meant to grab a loin cloth on the way out, but my roommate used the last clean one to dry her hair.
Banjo tunee: She dries her hair with a loin cloth?

Banjo tuner: She saw it in a movie about Tarzan and June.
Banjo tunee: It’s Jane.

Banjo tuner: Hi, Jane. I’m Eddie. Anyway, I forgot to do the laundry and had nothing clean to wear.
Banjo tunee: Except for that…

Banjo tuner: What, this old thing? It’s a dish towel.
Banjo tunee: Look, you’re having  a bad dream. The one where all of your anxieties about your inner emptiness and your fear of being exposed as a fraud, perhaps even a frog, are dramatized in a low-budget porn film starring you, naked and humiliated, in public. It’s a common anxiety dream—except the frog part, which is  found mostly among wart-fearing frog drovers.  By the way, I’m just a prop. A voice-over. I’m not real. So wake up and smell your pants!

…sweet dreams are made of this…

Banjo tuner: Hi. Here to tune the old five-string. Sorry I’m late.
Banjo tunee: The tun– Wait a second. You’re naked. All over, except…

Banjo tuner: Don’t worry, it’s just a dream.
Banjo tunee: Yours or mine?

Banjo tuner: I get it a lot.
Banjo tunee: Is that a dish towel?

…who am I to disagree…

Banjo tuner: I’m the banjo tuner. I’m, uh… Geez, I’m naked again, aren’t I?
Banjo tunee: Pretty darn. Except for that strategically placed whatsit.

Banjo tuner: It’s a tea cozy.
Banjo tunee: Euuuw! I hope you’re going to throw that away.

Banjo tuner: Swisheroo! Right into your waste basket.
Banjo tunee: I didn’t mean here. Or now.

Banjo tuner: Don’t worry, it wasn’t very cozy anyway. I have to wake up now, my wife just gave me the stop-talking-in-your-sleep elbow.

…I travel the world and the seven seas...

Banjo tuner: I’m here to tune the banjo. Excuse the nakedness. It’s just a bad dream.
Banjo tunee: Hmm. Have you considered seeing a dermatologist?

Banjo tuner: Why?
Banjo tunee: I’m thinking wart removal. But maybe you should see a sleep expert or a dream analyst.

Banjo tuner: I went to see a sleep expert but he was sleeping with my dream analyst.
Banjo tunee: Were they actually sleeping or, well, you know…

Banjo tuner: Snoring?
Banjo tunee: Look, I have to tell you. This isn’t a dream and I’m not a voice-over. You’re standing on my porch naked, in real-time. Without so much as a tea cozy.

Banjo tuner: Can’t be. I just pinched myself and didn’t feel a thing.
Banjo tunee: That’s because you pinched me. Right after you snared that fly with your tongue.

Banjo tuner: Ruh roh. Ribit.

…everybody’s looking for something*…

*Where would frogs and dreamers be without Dave Stewart’s great 1983 Eurythmics classic? Eyelids…getting…heavy…must…take…nap…

©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2016, all rights reserved.