Dream of: 15 August 1999 "Visiting New York City"

I was sitting in an auditorium in New York City. Next to me on my left was a woman (probably in her late 20s). She was thin and rather plain, not the type of woman in whom I would normally be interested. But since I was completely alone, we first exchanged a few words, and finally began carrying on a conversation. I began to enjoy her company, and was pleasantly surprised when she finally asked me if I would like to go out on a date tonight.

I had to stop and think. I wanted to go out with her, but I already had something else planned, and I had to tell her I couldn't go tonight. However, I told her I would like to go another time, and that I would give her my phone number. She seemed disappointed, but accepted the offer of my phone number, and I began trying to find something on which to write down the number. I wished I had a calling card, but I didn't.

When I finally had pen and paper in hand, I asked her if she had a computer. She indicated that my question was rather obtuse, that everyone in New York had a computer. I told her I was going to also give her the address of my web site, and that if she would go there, she could read all about me before she actually went out with me. I knew the idea of giving her my web site address was a bit unusual. But I thought, why not? Many people whom I didn't know were already reading my dreams on my web site. So why not tell this woman about it? If she read my dreams, she could quickly get a good idea of who I was. I didn't have any problem with that.

However, when I began writing, I couldn't seem to write correctly. I was trying to write the name "vogelein," a pseudonym which I had been using on my web site, but every time I would try to write a letter, I would write a different letter instead. I also wanted to tell the woman that "vogelein" wasn't my real last name. But it seemed unnecessary to do so at the moment. So I simply concentrated on writing down the web site address. Doing so took quite a bit of effort.

When I finally succeeded I gave her the paper and we stood to leave. Two friends were with her, a man and a woman about her same age, sitting on the other side of her. They also stood up and the four of us walked outside onto the Manhattan sidewalk. I was feeling quite exuberant about being in New York, and about having met someone to share some time with. My old friend Weinstein was the only other person I knew in New York, and I hadn't even been sure I would see him on this trip. So I was glad to have met someone. By the time I was outside, I had forgotten that I had another engagement, and I was only thinking about spending more time with the woman. I suggested that the four of us catch a cab together, and go somewhere to party. We would probably start at the first-class hotel at which I was staying.

As I tried to hail a cab, one of my new friends told me that the taxi situation in New York had become a bit bizarre, and that if we got a cab, I would have to give the cab driver my keys before he would let us get in. It seemed that cabs had been robbed so often, the drivers had developed this precaution in order to prevent passengers from robbing them and running off.

I was unfazed by the prospect of giving up my keys, and I foresaw no hindrances for this night becoming a wild extravaganza of fun. We only needed to begin.

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