Dream of: 28 September 2002 "The Ideal Job"

As I was riding a bus through Italy, I was trying to memorize some lines for a play. As I memorized, I also began thinking about calling Weinstein and telling him I was contemplating taking a job teaching Italian. I thought I would also tell Weinstein that my ideal job would be to live in Italy and teach Latin. Now at least I was thinking about teaching Italian, which was a step in the right direction. 

Two Italian women - who were my wife and my mother-in-law - were sitting on the bus with me. My mother-in-law stood up, intending to get off the bus at the next stop. My wife and I told her that this was not the right stop, but my mother-in-law disagreed with us. Finally, however, she realized she was wrong and she sat back down. Only this time she sat on my lap. She was only about 40 years old, and I was very attracted to her. I wondered if she could feel my penis. I began running my hand through her long black hair, which felt very sensual. Finally she climbed off my lap.

Some other women were sitting nearby, and now we seemed to be in a bus station instead of on a bus. One of the women (only about 20 years old) stood up in front of me. She was wearing a see-through top. I could see a mole on one of her breasts. She proceeded to take off all her clothes and stand right in front of me. She seemed to think that taking off her clothes was perfectly natural. I wasn't quite sure what to do. She certainly was attractive, however. 

In the meantime, I was still trying to memorize the lines for the play. As I went over the lines in my mind, I began to think that some of the lines were wrong, and I began having the notion that I could go to a counter here in the bus station and return some of the lines, just like returning a bus ticket. I walked over to the counter and spoke to an attractive woman (in her early 20s) standing behind the counter. I told her I wanted to return a whole page of lines. The woman began trying to help me - she was going to take the lines back. 

We were talking Italian. When I noticed that she had a peculiar accent, I asked her in what I thought was Italian if she was American. She said, no, that she was French. 

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