It was your everyday, typical standard abduction; two people overwhelmed and overtaken by a bunch of thugs intent on control and exploitation. It was standard to the police and media and to the purveyors of their reports. I alone was the one who took exception; they standardly had abducted me and my consort.

I have had this dream many times before; I have always successfully defended myself and companion against the marauding hordes of invaders, skillfully culling their ranks one by bloody one, winning the day and the loyal appreciations of my wife/girlfriend/lover/co-dependant.

I would be only slightly injured as in movie-mode, still ready to do battle with the last gasp of defiance from the last of the dying perpetrators. Often it was the hidden weapon in my belt, or the years of martial arts training that would ultimately gain the final advantage. Quick response and perfect evaluation of the situation were my most lethal weapons.

There were never any survivors. This most recent dream event took me by surprise, as I was ill prepared for failure. In my dreams, strength, energy, testosterone and adrenyline were in limitless supply, this being a man dream.

I prepare myself for battle, envisioning the whole of it from a safe distance. I choreograph each swing, thrust, punch and kick. If they do not synchronize, I playback and edit the moves until they do. Hence my perfect record of success. I did not anticipate dream-villians anticipating my editing. It was as if they could read my mind, staying one step ahead of my imaginings, to counter not only the original response but to the alternative edits. I started to sweat and weaken with fatigue. Not only was my own survival at stake, but also that of my consort.

I will call her "Tina", although in my dream she had no name. But her fear was real. Tina gave me these darting, hurried glances as we were separated, questioning my ability to control these violent villians. She clearly did not know of my history as the conquering lord. Her shaken looks were a clear vote of no confidence. I was in uncharted territory. In my dreams, I date quite frequently. It is an opportunity to practice and polish, not unlike a dress rehearsal or a scrimmage game. It is the process, not the result. I am uncertain whether it has any effect on any of my bi-annual dates, but it is clearly a more enjoyable topic than let's say, presidential politics.

And when I actually do go on a date, I am sure that at the least, I appear experienced. Experience counts. It counts in championship basketball, presidential politics, performance art. Experience counts everywhere. It became important that I correlate my experiences in dating and conquering the attacking hordes into a new plan of response. Failure was not an option.

Adding a certain complexity to all of this was the fact that these astral abductors were part extraterrestrial and part un-employed pillagers from a Ghengis Khan movie. A bad combination of styles made worse because of the cold and dark and the foreboding feeling of abandonment that one feels in downtown Salt Lake City. At least the boarded up buildings on Main St. were neat and tidy. That gave me some hope.

There weren't many details in this dream; it was more a poem than a story. There were metaphors everywhere, pointing in all directions. It was clear to me from the onset, that there were far many more of them than me, that they had taken a surprise advantage, and that they not only were bigger and stronger and meaner, but that they weren't willing to play by the rules that I had established in all of the prior dreams. Very much ex-wife like.

Additionally, they had made the very bold and strategic move to separate me from my date. I not only had to extradite myself from a very compromising situation, but immediately free Tina from an equally dangerous position. I furiously started to review movies with similar scenarios. Home Alone came to mind first, quickly followed by Home Alone II. It would not work; the age differentials were unacceptable. I looked quickly at the Lethal Weapon and Die Hard trilogies. Time was becoming an issue. I was sensing light coming into my bedroom window, and an effective strategy would have to be hurried. I moved to the Road Warrior, past the Waterworld and settled reluctantly on the original Predator. I have alot of trouble relating to Arnold, but do well in the outdoors. It would have to do.

I was able to escape from my abductors long enough to acquire some brick camouflage, which I expertly used to hide myself amongst the old, brick buildings in Arrow Press Square. I was keenly aware of the dangers this move presented to Tina, but it was our only hope. I fashioned a bow and arrows from a discarded potted bamboo plant found in a dumpster behind Beni-hana's and a knife stolen from the Blue Iguana took care of both short and long range defense. My plan was to lure my assailants into the parking structure at the Crossroads mall, changing briefly to concrete-camo, disorienting them long enough on level 3, to make my ultimate escape and to effect Tina's as well.

They anticipated the stolen butter knife from the restaurant, which caused it to bend and break, but the bow and arrows was a total surprise. I had momentarily gained advantage. I had counted on disorientation in the parking garage for up to five minutes; but these were astute criminals and they cut that down to ninety seconds. It had to be enough time. I set up an attack position in the lobby of the Capitol Theatre, arrow and bow ready.

As the attackers appeared around the corner of Absolut, I made my move. Expertly I aimed and shot, aimed and shot, moving to the Zapruder film and the very thin possibility of firing 4 rounds of arrows in 2.3 seconds, each hitting their mark with experienced precision. Although Tina could not see me (brick camo), she was well aware that it was I who had cleaved her from the criminals.

Upon rescuing Tina, there was still the matter of the pursuers in the parking garage to deal with. My camo was wearing thin and there was not enough for both Tina and I. The new plan was to highjack a meter reader's jeep and aim for North Salt Lake, hiding in the Phillips refinery until help arrived. This good plan was thwarted however, by a road closure at Victory Blvd, which forced us to swing around the Capitol Building into Memory Grove.

It turned out to be a fortunate happenstance. We were able to establish a vantage point on the hillside opposite the area where the tornado had denuded the park. Tina, as it turned out, was an Olympic archer and the rest is history. It was our first date.

The light had begun to walk a thread of light across my bedroom; I intended to finish this dream before waking, and had to rush the epilogue. Tina and I became good friends, but never lovers. She was taking herbal medications to combat asthma, and was disqualified from Olympic competition due to a series of failed drug tests.

I have patented the brick and concrete camo and travel often in my new business. Some of the burned silhouettes from the aliens are still visible on the brick pavers near the Polynesian restaurant in Arrow Press Square. My reputation intact, I await my next astral assignment....