2018-12-05 - 3:33 p.m.
Riot Grrrl Shows Up Late to Practice (From a Dream (Literally))
A riot grrrl (in my dream, it’s a younger—mid-20s—Lizzy Caplan) shows up to a closed door, rushed, obviously late. She opens her phone and repeats to herself a lyric to a song she’s obviously having trouble remembering. She says it to herself twice. “XYZ whatever it is.” She throws open the closed door and rushes in. As she opens the door, rock music blares.
There’s a band set up, Rock ‘N’ Bowl-style, at the front of the lanes. We’re in a bowling alley. The band’s on a small stage. The riot grrrl walks along the front of the stage, the stage being at chest level, and grabs half-empty beer bottles and dumps them willy-nilly on the stage and onto the bowling lanes. She works at the bowling alley, and is late both for work and for band practice.
She’s up on stage, and she’s holding a mike aggressively, pulling the cord taut. The band continues through the intro part of the song, and the riot grrrl, still rushed, comes in with her lyrics, though she’s a half-beat late. Still, she nails the singing. She’s got weird, spiky, dyed hair and she’s a mess, but she’s very good at this. She’s got loads of charisma. Then we get to the lyric she had told herself to remember, before walking in, and she fucks it all up. The other band members stare at her and roll their eyes. But then the song moves past those lines and she nails it.
And then, as such things go, I wake up.