So people have all kinds of fantasies. They dream of being a football hero. Most kids pretend to one day be president or Miss America. Fantasies are personal and reveal so much about a person. Winning the lottery. Getting your dream house. Going on a super vacation. Meeting someone really famous.
I was once asked if I could do anything in the whole world, what would be my fantasy? Mind you, I was about 25 years old, but the answer has not changed too much. I don’t want riches or fame. I don’t want glory or recognition. I don’t desire to meet anyone famous (dead or alive). My vision, in all its mundane, banality is to totally demolish the pickle aisle at the grocery store. Sad, but true. Now…I don’t fixate on this. I don’t obsess. No white truck with Nurse Ratchet is coming for me. But when I have a shitty day, I can visualize the sounds, the smell, the shock on peoples’ faces. I picture the chaos and the utter absurdity of some middle aged woman going beserko on the Vlasic dill spears. It is something like Lara Croft playing tomb raider in her own living room. Destruction is cathartic.