Posted by: normanlgreen | June 25, 2012

Dream, June 25, 2012 back to school & a hot pannini

Dream, home 6:15am

Variation on the return to school dream that so many people report. Only this time, it is not that I have to finish high school (30 years later) but that I have taken on the obligation to teach High School Physics. I wake late. My wife tells me that I have been neglecting my work and that I will be late, again. I pull on some half-clean clothes and dash out the door.

On the way to school, I lose track of my worries that I an unprepared to teach, when I realize that I haven’t eaten. I stop at an old brick warehouse that has been converted into a restaurant. This is a new venture for an attorney I know. I come into the building through the kitchen door and get lost trying to find the front of the house – pass a sign that reads “Ron’s Office”.

I find the public portion of the place. Ron himself greets me. There is a morning crowd in the dim dining room. Ron shows me to a seat in a far corner – this section of the restaurant divided into a completely different room by use of low walls and arches. A ham and cheese pannini is brought to me. The sandwich is hot and slippery. I wolf it down, as I have recalled some kind of obligation: what was it?

On my way to pay, Ron stops me long enough to introduce me to a soccer coach from New Zeeland. They are putting together a team. Ron says, “you play, don’t you Norman.” Without thinking, I lie and reply that I do. The coach adds my name to the roster. I start to walk away. The coach calls after me with a question: “How is your forward game?” I do not answer.

There is a long line at the cash register. I hold a folded five in my hand, hoping that this will be enough to cover the check. There is some difficulty with the machine or the operator. I fully remember that there are students waiting for me. I decide to pay later and leave the building. One of the customers who has been waiting in line – a large gregarious fellow – runs out the front door then returns with a gallon jug of cheap red wine. He runs through the open kitchen, pouring big glugs into various pots. I hand the five to the cashier and tell him to take care of my check when he can. I pass Ron and ask him if that customer realizes that he has broken food handlers’ law.


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