Usually any dreams I have fade away quickly after I wake up. But this one has really stuck with me for whatever reason.
Andrea and I are staying in a hotel. It’s a pretty nice place, but not like the Waldorf. Maybe a Hilton. Thing is like two floors directly above us, Kelly Clarkson is staying in the same hotel. And EVERYBODY knows it because there is a ton of people up there hoping to catch a glimpse. So we figure, what the hell, we’ll go check it out since everyone else is.
Kelly’s crew apparently anticipated all this, because there were displays and a sort of mini-exhibit all about her. And all the people were milling around checking it all out. The displays were all laid out kind of in chronological order of her career. Most people were down at the end gawking at all the new stuff and reading little plaques about how she came up with her songs that everyone hears on the radio and TV. A few people were in the middle. But Andrea and I were the only people at the other end where her early stuff was. I remember saying to Andrea, “Her new stuff is good, but I just really like her original songs the best.”
Lo and behold, Kelly Clarkson was standing in earshot when I said that and walked over and said something to the effect that she was surprised to hear someone say that and it was refreshing to hear somebody who didn’t just want the new and latest. Clarkson said, “I worked just as hard on those projects as I do with my current ones, so it’s frustrating when people just forget about them.” Of course I totally agreed with her.
I’m a bit blurry on how it happened after that, but at least for the time being, we were now in Kelly’s “circle” and we were headed somewhere to do something, probably awesome. At the very least we were going to get to ride in her limo! So we get on the elevator to head down to the lobby and leave for wherever we are going. But as we were getting on the elevator, an elderly woman was trying to get on but the doors began to close before she could step on the elevator. Being the kind soul I’m sure Kelly Clarkson is, she reached to hold the door open for the old woman.
The elevator was one of those fancy glass elevators that rides along the outside of a building so you can get an awe inspiring view of the skyline, which I remember as being generic enough not to be familiar to me. It wasn’t crowded, but you could tell that with our next occupant, we’d be inclined to tell anyone who came next to wait for the next one, rather than pack us all in.
I want to say the old woman had a walker. At any rate, she was moving at a glacial pace. Kelly Clarkson continued to hold open the door, but the longer she held it, the more determined the door was to close. She tried to push the door open, partly in frustration and partly to protect the old woman from getting trapped by the ever persistent doors. Right then the elevator door slid back through it’s hiding place and exposed the ground below. She slipped and disappeared.
Everyone instantly screamed, and it seemed like we all took an instinctive step back not knowing for a brief instant if the whole elevator was going to fall. Half a beat later when I realized the floor beneath my feet was still solid, I dove for the opening.
Kelly had grabbed a hold of some of the machinery under the elevator, and held on tightly with her feet dangling in empty space. All I could see was rows of hotel room windows growing ever smaller until they eventually met a parking lot some 20 stories below.
As she hung there she wasn’t looking up at me. I hollered to her, “Kelly, I’m here! Grab my hand!” Still without looking up she reached out a hand. At first I couldn’t reach her at all. I slid a bit further over the edge, not wanting to plunge us both to our death when her weight was added to mine. I grasped her hand, but it was all oily from the machine work she clung too and slipped. “Hold on!” I shouted.
I made the biggest lunge I could and we clasped each other’s wrists. I then was able to get my other hand around her forearm and pulled her up. I remember thinking she was lighter than I thought she would be. Good for both of us I guess.
As I pulled her up she was able to get her footing on a large gear underneath where the door used to be. But it was one of those gears that looked like if it engaged it would just pulverize anything that met its teeth. I could tell by the look on her face she had the same thought I did so with one last tug, she was back in the elevator.
She looked about how you would expect anyone to look after she almost plummeted from an elevator. She was visibly frazzled, oil covered and wind blown. We all exited the elevator to the 20th-ish floor lobby where I guided her to a chair to collect herself.
Now at this point I woke up. I can only assume that Andrea and I were later invited to do all sorts of cool celebrity stuff and become Kelly Clarkson’s new besties.