Last night I dreamt—

—that my friends drugged me and took me to Mexico. I don’t who the fuck they were, but they were my “friends.” I woke up at dusk, outside some kind of Mexican strip mall near the Arizona border, blinking and asking why it was so fucking hot. They giggled and told me that they slipped something into my drink and took me to Mexico. “Surprise!” My first words were something about getting a gun, on account of it being Mexico. So I got up, stretched, walked into one of the stores and purchased a chrome 1911 .45 from some guy stocking cans in the back. I went back outside, got into a cab with my “friends”—one male, one female—and went to a bizarre Lebanese belly dancing/strip club bar-thing.

It was my birthday, I think, in the dream.