Strange dream
I dreamed that someone had suggested we perform at a renaissance faire put on by a couple we know that produces faires. As we have performed for them in the past, we thought that would be good. They were having a planning day at the faire site where everyone was supposed to come out, meet each other and get details of the show.
My wife and I drove up to it. It was at some sort of farm about 30 miles (50km) north of where we live.
My wife stayed in the car, and I got out and wandered through their planning day. It seemed very well organized and everyone seemed to have a place to be and a thing to do. It was much more of a dress rehearsal than any kind of planning meeting.
I wandered around for a while, but couldn’t find any place for people to check in, get instructions or anything like that.
From what I could see, they already had people doing the sort of thing that our group does.
So, after a bit, I decided we weren’t needed and turned to go.
As I was leaving, a guy I didn’t know came up to me.
"Don’t go!" he said. "You can still be part of all this!"
He led me to a room and handed me a piece of paper.
"Fill out this application," he said.
I looked at it and it asked things like:
"How long have you wanted to perform at the faire?"
"Do you have any experience in performing or public speaking?"
As I read through it I noticed the wife of the couple that ran the faire walk by and stop just around the corner as if she was trying to listen to what I said.
"I’m sorry," I said. "My wife and I run a group that has been doing this for many years. This looks more like an application for a starting intern. I don’t think it’s right for my group."
"Oh, you're with a group! Just write that in the margins of the form. Maybe they could come and audition."
"The folks who run this faire already know what we do."
"Well, they have heard of many groups. Maybe if you group was more local they’d know them better."
"We’ve performed for them at previous faires they’ve run."
"Really?"
"Is that right?" I asked, calling out the name of the woman I knew was listening.
"Oh Frank!" she said, coming around the corner. "I didn’t know Phoenix Swords wanted to be part of our show!"
"We were sent an invitation to come up today and meet folks."
"Well, I’m sorry if there was some confusion. You don’t know how hard it is to run a faire."
"Yes. I do. My wife and I have done it several times. You and your husband were at one of them."
I got up and left.
As we drove away, my wife asked me what we were going to have for dinner. I knew a sandwich shop in the area, so we went there.
It was a bit run down and I hadn’t been there in years. But, the owner remembered me.
As I ordered our sandwiches, the organizer of the faires we do down south came in.
"Hi Frank! I was in the area and thought I’d get sandwiches here with my son."
"Hi, they do make good sandwiches."
"Where can I sit with him?"
I pointed to some stools by a counter against the wall.
"That’s behind the service counter," he said. "That’s can’t be right."
"That is where my customers sit!" the owner said, fairly loudly. "You will sit there!"
"But, I would have to sit behind where you make the sandwiches. That’s not right!"
"All of my customers sit there!"
As they argued over this, I got our sandwiches to go and left.