Pop's Dream Journal

At first when I woke up, I only remembered one dream. But as I was recalling the one I had just had before waking up to go to the bathroom, a couple of dreams I had had earlier suddenly popped into my head.

In my first dream, I’m in the cafeteria or snack bar of what looks like a high school. I’m trying to get myself a soft drink but I’m having difficulty. The students have one way of getting and paying for food and drinks, but I am a visitor and have to use a different method. There are special cups and lids that I have to use and, while trying to get myself a cup, lid and straw, I end up knocking everything onto the floor. I pick everything up and try to put them all back the way they were, all the while conscious of the fact that one of the students is watching me. But I feel like some kind of idiot because at first I pick them up and or/stack them wrong and I know the student watching me knows this. I finally get everything back the way it was and go to the machine to fill my drink. The machine is large and rectangular, like most coke machines in the waking world. This one is painted white, with a red vertical rectangle on the lower right side and matches the design on the cup I have; that’s how I know which machine to use. There are about 10 different buttons on top and a single slot in the bottom where you place your cup to be filled. I want to get diet coke, but don’t know which button to press because, while a couple of the buttons have the type of drink listed on it, most of them don’t. One even just has a gum wrapper instead of a drink label. So I look around, trying to see if I can find a student to see if they can tell me which button is diet coke.

In my next dream, I’m in a convenience store walking up to the cashier. As I’m approaching, a young man with a mohawk and carrying a floor waxer is climbing out from behind the counter and leaving the store. There is a small crowd of customers gathered around and as the man leaves the store, they all applaud the cashier behind the counter, who happens to be a friend of mine from work. I look outside and see the man walking back to a truck parked in the street outside and there are two or three other men with him. The man with the mohawk is angry and saying something to his friends. Suddenly he turns around and tries to run back into the store but his friends restrain him. At this point, I notice that the street is all torn up, like somebody dug up all the concrete in different places. It suddenly dawns on me that the men outside are some kind of con men, who go around contracting with different businesses to do different jobs but don’t actually do the job (or do it badly), then demand to be paid anyway. I turn to my friend behind the counter and say, “Let me guess; they tried to con you into paying them to wax your floor”. To which my friend replied, “And he didn’t even do anything.” All the other people had been applauding my friend for making the man leave the store. But I am worried that the man and his friends will come back and harm (or even kill) my friend.

In my last dream, I’m in a kind of club with a bunch of people, including Danny DeVito, who seems to be in charge. There is a girl standing up on a small stage, wearing heels, shorts and a sleeveless button down top. She appears to be new to the place and a little bit nervous because she is auditioning to be a stripper and has to take her clothes off in front of us as part of the audition. After a little coaxing from the crowd, she finally removes her top and her shorts. I notice that her breasts, while not very big, have large nipples and areolas, which I find very attractive. Some of the other men in the crowd make favorable comments as well and one man even follows her when she leaves the stage to go into a small office. At this point I get the idea to “pass the hat” and collect a bunch of small change and give it to Danny DeVito, telling him that they are the tips the crowd gave the girl. My reasoning behind this is that Danny thinks the girl will make him lots of money but by giving him just a bunch of loose change, it’ll be like playing a joke on him. As one man pulls out a pocket full of coins, I notice that they look strange. They don’t look like regular American quarters, dimes and nickels. The backs of all the coins have little full color flowery borders on them, with a little poem or quotation inside of it. I can’t recall what it said but I remember taking offense at one of the quotes, since it doesn’t seem very patriotic or American. One of the guys standing around assures me that the quote is correct and has every right to be on the coin. I then give the money to someone and tell them to give it to Danny DeVito. But when they come back, the person tells me that Danny wasn’t in the office, just the girl was, and so he gave the money to her. He says she was resting and didn’t look at the money; she just looked up from the couch and said, “Thank you” when he told her it was her tip money. At this point I am angry because the joke didn’t go over as I had planned and because the girl will most likely be offended when she sees how little money is there. At this point I wake up.

I want to point out that the man who tells me the quote on the coin is okay is a friend of mine who lives in another state. We belong to the same scuba diving club and only see each other when we go on scuba diving trips. We are on such a trip right now.