Just had the most bizarre dream, but when I woke up, I laughed at myself over one aspect of it…
I'm in an elevator, headed to the 17th floor. But as it approaches 17, I realize it isn't slowing down to stop, and zooms right past 17 to some unknown floor. The doors open, and the plane is ready for boarding.
I find an open aisle seat (I hate aisle seats) and sit down. I have my headphones on, and am listening to some music. I am highly annoyed by the fact that a group of women sitting a few rows ahead of me are singing along. I'm also trying to figure out how they know what I'm listening to. Are my headphones that loud? I stand up, and suddenly a bunch of people head towards the restrooms. Irritated, since that was where I was headed, I look around at the vacated seats. For no particular reason, my hair is now wet, as if I'd just washed it. I'm thinking that I don't want to squeeze past the one guy who appears to have an empty window seat next to him, because of my wet hair. Instead, I head towards another "car" of the plane.
I walk into this new car, and there are all these big, fancy, leather, reclining seats, with their backs circled around a big pillar. There's one open, so I take it, and sit down. I realize it's a massaging chair, so I'm fiddling with it, but also hooking my mp3 player into the airplane's sound system - but not to receive music, but to send it. I am IMing with someone, so that they can hear the music, and in between fiddling with massage settings, I am typing out the lyrics to the song (Josh Groban's Canto Alla Vita, by the way.) Finally I get the massage settings right and settle back and notice that there is a bunch of stuff sliding around in one of the cargo compartments (which was just a big open room off to the side of the one I was in.) Namely, I see *my* checked baggage sliding around, which includes a very large oak wardrobe.
Somehow, I had managed to check a very large oak wardrobe as luggage, and it was now zig-zagging around the cargo room. I also note, more with confusion than alarm, that one of the actors from Terminal (the guy who drives the food around) is in this room, trying to dodge the furniture. I think to myself how idiotic it is that he is in there - anyone knows that a cargo room is no place to be when the plane is in flight. But he's weaving and bobbing and ducking. Eventually, a steward (yeah, a male flight attendant, but in my dream, he was a steward) approaches me and says that I'm going need to talk to customer service about my checked baggage. I agree, and head towards the front of the plane.
So now I'm strolling along this big service type corridor, and I notice a very large open room to my right. I look and it has several rows of very long conveyor belts, loaded with various snack items - one belt has chips, another popcorn, another soda, etc. Apparently, I have found the galley. I approach one of the workers, who is smoking a cigarette, and ask him how I find customer service. He says something, and I head back out of the room. Instead of continuing towards the front of the plane, though, I'm headed back the way I came. A woman is walking towards me, holding a bag in her hands. She asks me where I think she might get some crackers, and I motion towards the galley. "I think they will probably be able to help you in there," I laugh, and she laughs at my wit. :rolleyes: She offers me her oyster crackers, which are too bland for her, but I decline. I go back into the galley, and talk to another employee. I happen to find him extremely attractive, so I have a hard time focusing on his directions, but I do manage to comprehend that when I get to the fork, I need to go right, instead of left.
I walk now towards the front of the plane, and can hear Attractive Galley Man singing - an opera type song. I'm stunned by the beauty of his voice, and the fact that he's working in an airplane galley doling out chips and soda, but continue walking. I pass by a large glass window that looks down into the Galley, and as I look through it, his singing is suddenly coming out of my headphones, which strikes me as really odd, but I go on my way.
It is about now that I am starting to realize that this plane is very, very large and I approach a fork, but take the left path instead of the right. I'm now standing at an ice cream counter, a little bemused at the idea of an ice cream counter on a plane. I back out of there, remembering vaguely that I had read that first-class on a plane had a lot to offer, including shopping malls, and various things, and that if a person kept a low profile, sometimes they could partake as well, even if they were only flying coach. (Yes, complete BS. It was a dream.)
So I head down the right side of the path and enter a large shopping mall type area - tile floors and cafe tables and small kiosks selling various things. I notice a woman sitting at a table, smoking a cigarette. Then I spot a long table with many uniformed people sitting behind it, and behind them are various pictures of maps and flags, and big sign that says "Customer Account Service Area". I figure this must be the right place, and take a seat in front of a big burly gentleman, who has before him a tray (one of the cheap compressed-paper trays, all done up to look somewhat fancy.) I explain my plight, and he smiles and starts singing Joshua Kadison's "Beautiful in My Eyes" at me. He struggles to explain the problem:
"You're a star member? Then you must have read this, so surely you realize- [sings lines from the song] that we have certain weight limits [sings] and that we will, for the fifth time now - [sings] attempt to secure your items and delivery them safely to your [belts out the chorus] destination." I nod, fighting back tears and looking away from him so that he won't see that I'm about to cry. He babblesings on, and then smiles and shakes my hand. Frustrated by his singing, I stand up, realizing that he really hasn't told me anything, and that there was really no point in having talked to him. But I ask him if I can take the tray, which I've been picking into little pieces, and he says yes, and I load all my paperwork (no idea where it came from) into it and head back into the shopping area, thinking I could really use a cigarette.
I pass by a duty-free cigarette counter, and decide to buy a pack. I notice a $20 bill sitting on the counter, and can't remember if it was mine, or already there. I pick it up and notice that it is extremely wrinkled, and very small. I turn it over and realize that it's some sort of store promotional "money" and put it back down. I order a pack of cigarettes from the clerk, who is also singing "Beautiful in My Eyes". I glare at him and tell him if I hear one more person singing that song, I will hit them. He grins.
I start to light a cigarette, but I realize my cellphone is going off. I reach into my pocket, and pull out a phone, but I can't get it to stop ringing. I am embarassed that I had left it on, since they're supposed to be off in-flight, and struggling to silence it quickly. Suddenly, I realize that I've accidentally taken my mother's cell phone, and that the phone in my pocket is vibrating. I pull out my phone, and fumble to turn it off as well.
Suddenly, I'm standing on the steps in my foyer. An acquantaince of mine has apparently killed his mother, and I'm talking to him about this - deriding his selfishness, and the fact that he blamed everything on his mama's faults. We head outside, about to go to the funeral. The front step is covered in shoes.
I wake up.
What was amusing is, as I woke up I realized I still my headphones on, and it was playing a song I hadn’t heard before. I fumble for the player, turn on the display, and it’s a song by Joshua Kadison called “Mama’s Arms” or something like that. The dream still fresh in my mind, I begin to laugh as I put some of the pieces together. I hit “Previous track” and sure enough, it’s “Beautiful in My Eyes.” I hit back again, and it takes me to the Josh Groban folder. My dreams are very frequently affected by sounds from my surroundings, but I’ve never had one affected quite that way - with people actually singing at me.