Dream of: 02 September 2001 "The Fine Arts"
I was thinking about the fine arts; I thought there were seven, but I could only remember five: painting, sculpture, singing, dancing and playing a musical instrument. The only one of the five which I practiced on any kind of regular basis was playing a musical instrument, since I sometimes played the flute. I needed to find out what the other two were, and try to practice a little of each of the seven every day. Was poetry one of the other two? Or writing?
I was also thinking about what I was going to be doing today. I had recently moved into a new town and found a new place to live. I had also met a new woman (about 30 years old); she had black hair and ample breasts. I had only seen her once; later today I was going to meet her for the second time. I knew very little about her and I had told her very little about myself. Should I tell her more? I decided I should: if she and I were going to see more of each other, it would be best that I be completely open with her about who I was.
I should begin by telling her about my present living conditions. I had moved into a rather shabby apartment because the apartment was so cheap and I was always one to save money. I had never liked spending a lot of money on fancy apartments and all through my life I had avoided living in luxury so I could save money. Of course I realized some people couldn't live like this. I walked through the apartment, which seemed to be on the second floor of a building. The wallpaper had water stains and in places was even peeling off the walls. The apartment was furnished with furniture which was run-down, but not terrible. The apartment and furniture didn't bother me; I still owned my own mortgage-free home which was worth about $140,000. I also had significant other assets, so I didn't feel the need to impress anybody with a fancy apartment. But would the woman understand?
What kind of relationship the woman and I would have? I was definitely sexually attracted to her and if we continued seeing each other, I wanted to have sex with her. I imagined that going to bed with her would be quite a treat. But I would want to be up front with her: I was still married to Carolina and I didn't intend to leave Carolina. And I didn't want to do anything to endanger Carolina; therefore, the woman would have to have an AIDS test before I would become involved with her. I didn't think I would even kiss the woman until she had a test. But if she passed a test, and she was able to accept my living conditions, chances were that I would have an affair with her. Basically, since I would be living here for a while, I just wanted companionship; I needed someone with whom I could talk.
Of course, I did also have a roommate, a fellow presently sitting in one of the rooms of the apartment. I looked at him as I walked through the room. He looked somewhat like Jeff Bridges and somewhat like John Cusak. He was busily printing something on a printer. Seeing him made me realize that when I had moved here, although I had brought my computer with me, I had failed to bring some of my other hardware. I muttered that I couldn't believe I had forgotten to bring my printer, my copier and my scanner, all of which I frequently used.
My roommate had also just recently moved into the apartment. He spoke up and told me he had found a job at someplace called the "Granbury Roxbury Insurance Company." He asked me if I could drive him downtown to the company. We lived on a hill and downtown was at the bottom of the hill. In short order, we were in my car and I was driving my roommate toward downtown, which was fairly far way. I figured we would need another half hour to get there. It was about nine in the morning. The woman was and I were supposed to meet at twelve; I was still thinking of bringing her back to my apartment for her to see it. And I still needed to clean up the apartment. Therefore I was in a hurry. When I remembered today was Sunday, I began to question whether the insurance company would even be open today. I asked my roommate if he were sure the company was open; he said he wasn't sure. I told him we should call first.
I quickly pulled into a gas station and stopped the car. My roommate and I stepped from the car and walked inside to a pay phone. I picked up the phone and dropped a quarter into the slot. As I did so, I was surprised to notice gobs of coins in the coin return of the telephone. I began taking out handful after handful of coins. I already had many coins in my pockets, but I began filling up my pockets even more with coins from the telephone. When I dropped some of the coins on the ground, I told my roommate to pick them up.
Suddenly, a man who worked in the gas station walked up to us. When he looked at the coin return, I had the feeling he knew the phone was broken. He stuck a cup into the coin return, which was big enough to accommodate the cup. He seemed to be saying the coins which fell into the cup shouldn't be bothered. I asked the fellow if he had a phone book. When he responded that he didn't, I said I would have to call information to get the number for the insurance company. The fellow walked away, and I began dialing for information. At the same time, I again looked into the coin return. I was still thinking of getting the last amount of money out of the telephone. But now the coin return seemed much larger than before. It was as if I were looking into a soda pop bin. I could see four cans of Coke and a jar of mayonnaise inside. I certainly wasn't interested in taking those. Now I just wanted to contact the insurance company and move on.
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