Dream of: 04 April 2000 "Taking Off The Black Cloth"
Wheat had invited me to sit in on a meeting with him and some of his friends. Wheat and I had both sat down at a long table in a conference room, with Wheat sitting on my right. As the hour of the meeting arrived, only Wheat and I were present, and I began to think the meeting was going to fizzle. About five minutes after the hour, the door opened and people began walking in and seating themselves at the table.
By the time everyone was seated, twenty or more people were gathered around the table. All of the people apparently worked in government agencies, mostly career bureaucrats with whom Wheat came in contact in his law practice. None were close friends with Wheat, but everyone had friendly working relationships with him. More than half were black; Wheat seemed to have a predilection for befriending black people.
Some people talked among themselves, but no one spoke to me and I spoke to no one. Finally, however, a man on the other side of the table reached over and shook Wheat's hand, then extended his hand to me. Clearly he wanted to know who I was, and as I took his hand, I told him that I was a lawyer and that I did some legal work for Wheat. I thought about adding that Wheat was my only client, but I didn't. The man seemed satisfied, and I was also satisfied, because I figured everyone thought they knew who I was now and no one would bother me. I was always glad to simply be able to tell people I was a lawyer, and thus satisfy the need people had to pigeonhole me.
Of course, I knew everyone must be wondering about one thing the black cloth which I had wrapped around the top of my head and which was covering my left eye. I had recently scratched and injured the eye, and now I was wearing the cloth to protect it. I was having some difficulty seeing everyone with just my right eye, especially since my right eye was my weak eye. The cloth kept falling down, forcing me to keep readjusting it. As curious as I knew everyone must be, no one asked me about the cloth.
By now, almost everyone had a plate of food in front of them. Many people appeared to have carried in food with them, using the meeting as an opportunity to eat lunch. I really wasn't hungry, and I didn't care to eat, but I thought I should probably also grab a plate and join in, just to be sociable.
Wheat, meanwhile, was looking at some gifts which some of the guests had brought him. He was holding one box in his hands, and right in front of me was another box which contained a brand new clock. I was uncertain why the people had brought gifts, but apparently many people had felt compelled to bring something to Wheat.
I stood up and headed toward the table where the food had been placed, but first I decided to step into the restroom. Once inside, I pulled the black cloth off my head and looked at myself in the mirror. My left eye seemed to have healed, and I didn't think I would have to keep wearing the cloth.
Once I had taken off the cloth, I was amazed by my appearance. I looked as if I were only 18-19 years old, still with a good-looking boyish appearance. My cheeks were ruddy and my hair was a sandy blond. As I turned and walked back out to the gathering, I felt quite good about myself. Maybe I would even start talking to some of the people.
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