Driving with Sting | The Dreamweaver

I was leaving an awards ceremony where I had been a presenter when Sting came over and introduced himself and congratulated me on the release of my band’s new album. I was both delighted and surprised he had even heard of me.

He told me he had his car and offered me a ride to the gala.

I sat in the front seat of Sting’s long, two-seater sports car and he drove from the rear seat directly behind me.

We drove westbound on Church Street in Skokie and encountered a long line of backed up traffic as we approached Skokie Boulevard, so Sting drove around the line of cars in the oncoming traffic lane until he saw and opening in the line of cars waiting to turn right onto Skokie Boulevard and quickly maneuvered the car into the line and turned right just as the light had turned red.

We drove north up Skokie Boulevard until it turned into a four-lane motorway and Sting took off, driving too fast and too erratically for the conditions as the roads were wet from a recent storm.

We arrived at our destination and Sting apologized for his bad driving saying he wanted to get to the gala before everyone else so he could have time to rest.

We walked through a crowd of reporters and fans waiting to catch a glimpse of the celebrities as they arrived and entered into a private lounge which was decorated to look like a first-class cabin on an airplane.

We sat down in a two-seat row, Sting sitting next the window and I in the aisle seat.

Before I knew it, Sting fell fast asleep and I imagined he must have been exhausted from his trip and probably didn’t get much sleep after arriving from his home in Italy to attend the award ceremony.

I figured we had plenty of time, so I decided to take a nap myself, but when I covered myself with a blanket that had been on my seat, a older woman who appeared to be a cocktail waitress dressed up as a flight attendant in the motif of the lounge came over and literally snatched the blanket from me just as I had gotten comfortable, saying the blanket belonged to the seat across the aisle and that I had to share the blanket designated to my row, however, that was made impossible as Sting had already covered himself with the whole blanket and was, to my surprise, fast asleep, his head turned towards the false cabin window.

Just then, I saw a smartly dressed young man walking through the lounge carrying a rainbow colored sign with Sting’s name on it and I assumed the young man was a drug runner looking to make a drop.

Not being able to find Sting who slept beside me, his face obscured by the blanket, I got up and followed the young man out of the lounge and into the street calling to him as he walked away.

The man turned around and approached me and I told him I was with Sting and that if he had something for him he could leave it with me and I would make sure he got it.

Annoyed, the young turn around and walked away.

Then I woke up.

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