Just woke up from a bizarre nightmare.
There was some weird sort of a kleptomaniac girl on Barcelona's L11 (the "light metro" that brings civilization to my area) which pick-pocketed my keys without me noticing. Of course, she only does it for some psychological reason and then she shows them to me and tosses them back, but they fall on the rails.
I cannot pick them up, so the gentle folks in the station offer them to fetch them to me, and I can come get them the next day at this Italian pizzeria, Pizza Cantora near Laberint d'Horta.
Suspecting nothing from this arrangement, I tell a good girl friend of mine to have dinner with me the next day at Pizza Cantora (which is close to her place) and get my keys back. I believe she warns me about the guys in the pizzeria drugging our drinks, killing us and robbing my home. Of course, this being a bizarre nightmare thing, I don't believe her and drag her along.
And of course, we get drugged (sadly, I cannot remember the quality of the pizza). We wake up and run for it! They are closing some sort of gate, locking us. A bozo intercepts us, but luckily, an Ecuadorian mate from work is there to assist me in fighting. We do some boxing, my punches they don't do anything (me being a mere lightweight), but the Ecuadorian school of boxing is right there next to bare-knuckles gypsy boxing and he hurts the guy badly.
It becomes a bit fuzzy at this point, but we somehow reach a Police station, where the friendly cops decide against doing a search (because the pizzeria is open and they don't want to lose customers- well, don't drug them and try to kill them for starters) and they'll go back tomorrow (to find no trace of drugs or other shady behaviour).
I somehow wake up somewhere else, having lunch with soft drinks, but I feel very, very weird. I stand up and begin puking to the amazement of the people around me (usually, I know my etiquette and I don't throw up in polite company), and it seems I'm shooting weird stuff out of my neck, Paul Verhoeven-style (I knew I shouldn't have seen his latest movie in Sitges).
Then, of course, I woke up at 2:50am and come here to write this incoherent mess...
edit: do all my nightmares end in fights in bars?