A dream from last week. . . .
I’m driving down the street in my hometown (the street from the tornado dream). In reality, the street is one-way north, but in the dream it is one-way south. That reversal may be significant, or may not. There’s a lot of snow on the ground, but it’s melting, and as I’m coming up on the stop light at the intersection of the street with the main street in town, I see there is a Masonic temple to my right and that it is open and people are going into it.
Now, there is not a Masonic temple in my hometown (that I’m aware of), and this is a grandiose Victorian era monstrosity that you usually see in much larger cities than our little rinky-dink berg. The temple is where the old dime store used to be, but in reality, the dime store is one block over. Again, the displacement may or may not be significant.
So I pull over to the right of the street and park. In this dream I’ve always been curious what the inside of the temple looked like, and this seems like a good opportunity to go in and look around.
I walk into the temple and it looks like a lobby in one of the old, grand early cinemas (we do have one of those locally, but this isn’t that cinema; it’s one I’ve never seen before). There are a lot of people milling about. The decor is late Victorian. The colors are pretty drab. It reminds me of a mid-19th century edition of a Shakespeare collection one of my great aunts left me: dark green and rust colored, tattered leather and tarnished gold leaf. It’s musty and dark and very, very old.
There is a very elaborate, ornate staircase to my left. It goes up one story, then slightly turns at not-quite a ninety-degree angle, then goes up another half story to a landing. I somehow know this staircase leads to the theatre, and I’m curious as to what this theatre might look like, so I start to go up it.
The staircase is crowded; there are lots of people going up and down it. About half way up, I run into Chris. I am surprised to see her; it’s been a while since I have. She greets me, and I’m immediately put off by her. She is being very haughty and condescending. She is a step or two above me, and she doesn’t come down to the same step I’m on. She’s stopped right in the middle of the staircase, which has made me stop in the middle, and people are trying to get around us. It’s a tight squeeze.
She’s going on and on about some gifts I gave another girl, a girl much younger than we are who has started working at my office. She knows this girl, and they are good friends. There’s something about a cabbage grater and green ceramic bowl, and while she’s talking, I keep getting flashes of an old-fashioned wooden lean-to ladder, and I think that even though she’s talking about a cabbage grater she’s really talking about a ladder. I’m trying to figure out why on earth she’s linking the two together and why she is being such a bitch to me when we’ve always gotten along really well.
Then a realize she is angling for me to give her the same gifts I gave the other girl. This pisses me off, first of all, because she seems to have a sense of entitlement that she deserves gifts for something; secondly, it comes out of a raging jealousy that I suddenly realize she has towards this other girl; and lastly, I feel as if she is trying to emotionally manipulate me in some way. I’m so angry at her that I decide then and there that I will never give her a cabbage grater and a green ceramic bowl no matter how much she thinks she deserves it.
I never say these dreams make sense people. I just record what happens.
So I put on my pretend nice face and chat a little while longer and then get away from her and move on. I get to the landing, but the theatre is closed, and everyone is going directly down the back staircase. I think this is really bizarre; why would they have the staircase open if the theatre is closed? Wouldn’t they block it off so people wouldn’t be going up to the theatre? I’m now doubly pissed, and as I reach the first floor, I look outside the windows and see that the snow beside my car is melted–I’ve parked in a no parking zone, the stripe having been obscured by the snow. I rush outside just as I wake up.