Some background information: I for a telephone company in Texas. My grandfather, for reasons I won't go into at the moment, but have nothing to do with his health or mental health, is living in a nursing home outside of Philadelphia. And I drive a 1991 Subaru Legacy Station Wagon which I bought from a friend for $1500. So yes, I apparently have some strange dreams. Last night, I dreamed that I went to visit my grandfather. And for some odd reason, Paul McCartney was in the nursing home. I think he'd actually broken his foot or something fairly minor, but he was there for rehab (and shortly thereafter, it turns out, went home). In any case, while I was visiting my grandfather, I was walking down the hall and wholly by virtue of the fact that I was *already up* and *not injured*, I got some water for Mr. McCartney.
A few days later, when I was back at work and on the phone, the number to the department rang and a coworker (who is actually no longer with the company) answered. Apparently, the call was for me, and for whatever reason, the caller had been specifically instructed to speak only to me. My colleague took a message and I called back, and a man with a VERY thick Brummie accent answered.
Now, I live in the United States, so a thick Brummie accent was not what I was expecting when calling a number in Philadelphia. It took me a minute to decipher what the man was saying, and I asked who it was. And he answered "This is Ozzy Osbourne! Paul McCartney told me to call you!"
Now, since I got up and showered and drove to work and all, I've forgotten the *exact* request, but it was something incredibly inane, like "can you bring me a cup of orange juice" or something. And I said of course, and somehow drove from *DALLAS* to *PHILADELPHIA* in like an hour. Which took me half an hour longer than it should have because for some reason, I'd gotten locked out of my car (which I don't usually lock. But whatever. I was unconscious!)
When I got to Mr. Osbourne's room (and why, for example, he didn't ask his superawesome wife to get him orange juice, I have no idea), he wasn't there, so I left the cup, left a note, and went back out to my car, where my boyfriend was waiting.
My cell phone rang (I have no idea how this man was getting my numbers) and it was Ozzy. (I assume, since he's in my dream, I can call his dream-self by his first name). I apologised for being late and explained to him that I'd gotten locked out of my car. He seemed to find this a perfectly acceptable explanation, and asked me what model of car I have. When I replied "a 1991 Subaru Legacy station wagon", he *immediately* with "oh, that's easy, yeah? On the passenger side, use the code *062062* and it'll open the doors".
Now, why Ozzy Osbourne would know the first thing about a 20 year old station wagon is utterly beyond me (when he can afford to buy everyone in his family Maseratis, for example). How he would know the manufacturer's code to open the digital cipher lock on the door (which, might I add, my car doesn't even have and if it DID have one, it would be on the driver's door?!)? No clue.
But it worked, and I was able to open my car door.
Dreams are weird.