Pizza Run and Wait: A Weird Dream

Storytime, folks. Or, rather, dream time, folks. A rather weird dream, mind you. It's a bit rambling, but I had to write it down for prosperity and to understand it in full. 

Try not to make something of it. Here we go:

I had a dream last night about going downtown to get a pizza from a huge restaurant. I had called it in and expected to wait a while for it. Fifteen minutes passed. Then, 30 minutes. An hour passed & I kind of gotten impatient waiting for one pizza.

I asked the lady who was the cashier in the parlor what was happening with my order throughout the day. She wasn't bad on the eyes, mind you, so I had to play it cool, but you had to understand my frustrations. The first 15 minutes, she was cordial and sweet. After 30 minutes, she was fine. An hour passed, and she was just belligerent, flustered, and angry at me for pestering her. She just told me that I had to wait a little longer for the one pizza.

Did I mention that there were only two people in this parlor besides me? I just took the lady at her word and just waited a little longer. I knew that I needed some sodas and noticed this place didn't have any fountains or bottled sodas. Realizing I wasn't getting my pizza any time soon, I left.

I didn't have anywhere else to go. It was still the afternoon, and I had used a bus to get downtown. I would have walked across the street to the 7-Eleven. I probably should have, but I didn't want to risk this parlor throwing away my order. So, I walked into this huge building behind the parlor.

I hadn't noticed the place before, and I didn't know what was in it, but it was massive, almost cavernous. My curiosity got the better of me, and I walked inside. The first thing I saw was the storefront of one of those dollar discount stores. I walked in and saw everything was in a vending machine.

And by everything, I mean everything. Candy, medicine, tools, personal care products, detergent, underwear, groceries, everything. But they didn't have sodas. I asked the guy who was at the register (again, this place only had vending machines), and he told me to go upstairs to get drinks.

He charged me $10 to tell me that bit of useless information. Reluctantly, I paid him & left. Then, in this same building, there was a drive-thru McDonald's. I noticed the sign & the four lanes the vehicles came through. There was no actual restaurant, mind you, just the four lanes in the building.

This was a strange place, I thought, and I walked on. I went upstairs and saw all of these flashing lights and colors. Arcade machines dotted the whole area as well as more vending machines. I bought a few bottled sodas which were about $2 a pop (literally in this case) and proceeded to leave.

At least that was the plan. I was about to go downstairs when I heard this weird, almost hypnotic chanting in the background. 

"EEE AYE OHH AHH! MARCO CENTI! EEE AYE OHH AHH! MARCO CENTI!"

It kept repeating the closer I got to the stairs, and then I saw the source of the chanting.

There was a huge room with about 80 or so folks sitting down in front of a screen with strange glyphs and alien-looking creatures sitting in a spacecraft preparing to jet off into an adventure. The seats started moving in all directions. This was some motion simulator ride in the middle of downtown.

Nothing about this day made any sense, so, I just left this weird building with my sodas in my bag and went back to the pizza parlor to receive my order of one pizza. I got back. 

I still had to wait another hour for ONE PIZZA. 

The dream stopped there. But something still bugged me about it.

That chanting sounded as clear as day to me. 

"EEE AYE OHH AHH! MARCO CENTI!"

What the heck did "Marco Centi" mean? Was that even a thing?  

I got up, and looked it up, trying to get a loose translation online. Apparently, it was Latin. Loosely translated, it meant "a hundred marks."

I wondered, "What kind of marks?"

I looked up marks and learned that a few countries used marks as their primary currency. Most of Europe used Euros, and there was only one country that still used Marks as currency, Bosnia. I used a money converter to translate marks to Euros. Then I translated those Euros to US Dollars. 

It ended up being US$55. 

A hundred marks. Maybe that's what someone owed me or what someone would give me out of the blue. I don't know. It was a weird dream.

Dreams are weird, my friends.