It was a beautiful, very blue and very sunny, day and we…an eclectic group of people of varying ages…were being marched (three by three) down a winding country road. The landscape was quite lovely indeed, we all had very comfortable walking shoes on, and the men and women with the guns were seemingly very relaxed and relatively easygoing (maybe the fact that they had guns and we didn’t had something to with that…)
We were led into sprawling pens filled with weathered wooden picnic tables topped with large wicker baskets filled with fruit and cold bottles of water (each of which containing a thin slice of lemon.)
I took an especially juicy green pear after the companions who had marched by my side…a bright-eyed Japanese woman with long, straight black hair cascading down to the small of her back and a strapping, stoic young man of indeterminate ethnicity…had chosen a shiny Granny Smith apple and a bunch of ruby red grapes respectively.
Across the table from us, not eating any fruit but puffing on a fat, expertly rolled joint, was Leonardo DiCaprio bloviating about world peace (which seemed strange since we were prisoners of some kind…albeit with delicious fruit, cool sparkling water, comfortable walking shoes, and, for some it seemed, access to marijuana.)
Leo wouldn’t stop gassing on…and he wouldn’t pass the joint.
We decided he was a pompous, selfish bastard but we listened patiently just the same and smiled to ourselves because we knew that when DiCaprio did get the munchies all of the fruit would be gone. Apparently we took our victories where we could get them.
I woke up before I found out where we going to sleep (hopefully Leo would have shut up by the time the sun went down…)
(Thanks and apologies, Bob :-)
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