Believe it or not, I saw Michael Jordan with my own eyes! It was evening, at the roof top of a local business center. There were thousands and thousands of people up there, waiting for the rare opportunity to see him close up with their own eyes. Exactly speaking, they were all big fans of Michael Jordan, me included. You could see the look of expectancy in their eyes. Some of them were talking; some were eating snacks, all excited but a little impatient and restless.

Michael would be right here as an image ambassador of a certain foreign product. After what seemed like a year, Michel appeared at last onto the temporary stage. Spotlights focused on the stage center, and people shouted, screamed whistled and stamped wildly. The whole place became a sea of boiling water. He waved to us and began to speak. However, it was so noisy that I didn’t hear a word he was saying.

Then came the time for questions and answers. I was one of the lucky guys who got a precious chance to ask him several questions face to face. “Mr. Jordan, can you tell me exactly how much money you earn every year and what you do with your money?” “Besides your wife, how many girlfriends did you ever have?” “Three? How come you only had three girlfriends when you could have thirty?” “Is there any possibility for you to be an image ambassador of a Chinese product? You have so many fans here, you know?”  

All of a sudden, I began to have difficulty breathing. Maybe the atmosphere was too intense and I was too excited. Oh, my god! I felt a little dizzy. There were so many people jostling around me that I had to push and squeeze very hard to get enough air to breathe. Oh, help! I just couldn’t stand on my own feet any more, and people were about to trample on me! It was at that moment that I woke up suddenly, panting hard for air.

It was so real, but only in a dream! I’m still a little confused why I would have such a dream. It was kind of weird, for in real life, I am no fan at all of Michael Jordan. How did I become a journalist overnight? And I’m especially ashamed of the questions I asked. They were so tacky so vulgar. Do I actually have nasty tastes or values deep down in my heart? Am I so shallow a person to have asked such questions? Who am I? What kind of subconscious feelings and desires do we humans possibly have?