Dream of: 02 July 1986 (2) "Oh My God"

I had borrowed my mother's medium-sized white car to take a long trip for about 1,500 kilometers. After driving a long ways, I finally decided I wanted to stop and I pulled into a place that looked like a combination of a house and a motel. After going inside, I was given a room on the second floor.

I ascended to the second floor, which seemed like the typical second floor of a two story frame house, with several rooms. I walked into my room first, and then walked into one of the other rooms, where I encountered a rather attractive woman (about 30 years old) who also was apparently spending the night there. She was wearing a tee shirt and jeans and was shapely, even though she had a large body.

I finally walked back downstairs and entered a room which seemed like an outlet for a Sears Department store. Some counters were placed around the room and on the counters sat what at first appeared to be mirrors. In front of the mirrors were some stools and I sat down in one.

I quickly learned that the mirror-like devices were actually new inventions whereby a person could press certain buttons and see what different types of clothes would look like on a person. The image that appeared wasn't a mirror-image of the person using the device, but rather an image of another person which could be dressed by pressing various buttons. I watched some people in the room who were operating some machines. Finally, a lady clerk walked over to me and asked if she could help me. I told her I had never used the device before and I didn't know exactly how to do it.

When she pressed a button, a picture of a woman suddenly appeared on the screen. The attractive woman had dark hair and was clad in only a brazier and panties. The clerk continued to assist me until I was able to dress the image with various types of clothes by operating the machine. It struck me for an instant how popular a device like that would be in fashion-conscious Quebec City, Canada, where I had been staying lately.

It seemed like more than anything, the machine would help people determine the color of clothes they would like to buy. People would be able to eliminate many colors. But it didn't help them see the texture of the clothes and what they were really like.

When the clerk finally left me on my own, the woman whom I had met on the second floor showed up. She sat down on a stool next to me and began helping me. She had used the machines before and was rather adept at them. When she told me to turn the page to bring up a different picture on the machine, I did so. The picture of a young girl (about 7-8 years old) showed up. I thought it would likewise be possible to dress up the little girl in all the clothes.

Apparently, the machines were still in the experimental stage and they hadn't yet been produced for men's fashions. I asked, "I wonder why they didn't make these things for men."

I felt as if the woman would be available that night for me if I wanted to pursue her. Deciding I might as well be aggressive, I laid my hand on hers. She let me hold her hand and she wrapped her fingers in mine. I caressed her hand some. I thought it was possible that we would spend the night together.

I could feel myself beginning to have an erection. I was aroused and was somewhat concerned that I might have a climax before we even did anything.

When I finally grew tired of the machine, I walked back upstairs to my room. Shortly thereafter the woman came back up and went to her room. That surprised me for a moment, because I had momentarily forgotten that the woman's room was also upstairs.

I left my room and walked into her room. She didn't stop me. I told her how nice it was that her room was right up there by mine. She replied, "Yes. It's convenient for you isn't it."

When I put my arms around her, we fell on her bed together. I could feel her voluptuous breasts pressing against my body as we lay there. I knew I had an erection. I felt as if I could control it, but I was uncertain. I thought I might climax at any time.

I wasn't really certain exactly what I was doing. I wasn't even sure I wanted to have sex with her. I knew I had basically given up sex and was uncertain I wanted to begin again. But it did seem pleasant lying there next to her.

I began to wonder what would happen if I were in a situation in which there were two women upstairs. One of the women might be a beautiful young blonde, whereas the other might not be quite as winsome. I imagined the blonde as being about 20 years old with frizzy blonde hair sticking up in front over a prominent forehead, sitting on the edge of a bed combing her hair.

If I wanted to be with the blonde, but knew the other woman wanted to be with me, would I attempt to be with the blonde, and then if refused by the blonde, go to the other woman? I decided I shouldn't do something like that. I would need to make the choice to begin with. I should either go for the blonde and accept total rejection or go for the other woman and forget the blonde.

Becoming somewhat conscious that I was dreaming, I thought I needed to write the dream down. I left the woman, wandered around and contemplated recording the dream. I soon came to a bus station and walked inside. I had had little sleep and was very tired. I decided that instead of continuing to drive the car to where I wanted to go, I would leave the car where I had parked it, take a bus—on which I would be able to sleep—and come back for the car later. It momentarily occurred to me that my mother's car might not be safe parked where it was, but I thought it would probably be all right.

I bought a bus ticket. A slender man (about 40 years old) walked up to me and told me he needed to go on the bus for which I had a ticket, but that there was no more room. He said that if I would take his ticket and go to a different bus station then I could continue on from the other station to where I was going and he would be able to take my bus. The man was with his family, all of which had already purchased tickets on my bus. I didn't want to see him separated from his family and so I agreed to take his ticket and his bus.

A black fellow in his late 20s wearing a beige trench coat walked up and engaged me in conversation. The subject of talk turned to crime. He talked about what should happen to a man if he raped someone. Although I hadn't realized it before, it suddenly occurred to me that I had some very definite ideas on that subject. I vigorously said to him something of the nature, "If you, for example, rape somebody, there would only be three choices if you were caught—either to shoot you, to put you in jail or to rehabilitate you. But the order of priorities should be reversed—to rehabilitate, to put you in jail or to shoot you."

I said something of the nature, "If you for instance raped my sister, my mother or a loved one and then are caught, then you definitely must be punished. And vice versa. The same would apply to me if I had raped somebody and had been caught."

He sat down and looked rather sullen as if he were taking personally what I had said. I walked away from him and began thinking something like, "I probably shouldn't really be espousing these opinions to strangers like that. I don't know who this guy is and he might take umbrage at what I've said and when I walk out of the bus station try to harm me in some way."

I sat down and waited for my bus, the destination of which was Charlottesville. I checked once and it wasn't time yet so I sat back down. After being there a while longer I suddenly realized it was time for the bus to leave. I grabbed the two pieces of luggage I had with me, ran out of the bus station and reached the bus just as it was pulling out. I motioned to it and it stopped. The bus opened its doors, right in the very front of the bus. The whole front opened up and I jumped on. I asked the bus driver how far it was to Charlottesville. He said it was only two or three miles. I thought, "Well that's great."

I sat down. Very few people were on the bus. We soon arrived at the next bus station where I disembarked. I walked into the station and asked the person behind the counter when the next bus would be leaving to where I was going. He said it would be leaving at ten o'clock that night. I couldn't believe it. It was only around noon. I thought, "Oh my God."

I was upset. I told the man how I had taken the ticket just to help some other fellow out, and now I was stuck there. I realized I should have checked the bus schedules before I took the ticket. I asked him when the next bus would be going back to where I had just come from. He said it would leave in 66 minutes. I went ahead and bought a ticket back. I thought something like, "Well I'll just have to sit here for an hour and wait and then go back to where I came from and then try to get another bus down to where I'm actually going."

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