Thursday, December 08, 2011


i am off to an event. i am following someone who may or may not be colin patterson (5live's entertainmnet correspondent - and someone who i only have the vaguest notion of what he looks like) we are going into a building that is all neo-brutalist concrete - an artistic housing estate. we come to the large array of glass doors that within a deep entry foyer. before we get to them we have to pass a group of press paps - they are all there with their cameras, open necked shirts, bling and fags.
they cry out to colin to find out what is going on.
he takes the white bread crusty roll he is eating breaks a bit off and throws it at their feet.
'i like giving them crumbs. with luck a pigeon will shit on them as well.'

we go into the vast hall.
colin is no longer with me.
the carpet is that functional has to have a lot of wear and tear stuff that has the colour of a pale mouldy peach. to the right of me there is a long conference style table with lots of microphones on it. there is no one at it.
in front of the table is a woman who seems to be in charge of all that is going on.
she sees me and makes a gesture that i should join the others.
the others are to my left up against the far wall. separated from the table by the vast expanse of carpet. they are all sitting cross legged on the floor. waiting.
i join them.
the woman in charge is speaking loudly into a phone.
'tell him to get here asap, bruce will be coming to speak very shortly we are just giving out some toys for the boys.'
a couple of people have materialised and they are walking along the lines of seated people giving out stuff.
my turn comes and i take what is a largeish clear plastic spoon - there is a design etched into it. i have done something wrong as the person handing them out gives me a withering look. he explains something to me and does it again, i get a pair of spoons this time.
looking at the design i can see it is an image from a bruce movie.
the woman next to me is also looking at her spoon and we get chatting about the films that we can see in the spoons.

dream change.

then i am entering a classroom. i am late.
aside from the teacher i am the oldest person there, by far. i am not sure what the class is, or even why i am there (i have a feeling i am doing an undercover sting operation or something like that ((this dream occurred after hearing reports that the daily telegraph had gone undercover to find out that teachers are getting advise about passing exams)).
i have a notebook out. waiting for something to happen.
the class seems to be an introductory one.
the lecturer a smallish man in a very grey suit with larger than normal pinstripes and purple shirt and hankie, looking like jimmy krankie has given birth to robin williams, is talking about getting supplies from the stationery cupboard but be aware that the lady in charge is a 'lemoneer'.
he then stops and with a smile that has too many teeth asks if we know what a 'lemoneer' is.
no one is prepared to answer.
i put my hand up and say i have never heard of the word but would guess that it means someone who is tough to deal with and has a sting in their tongue.
he says yes.
behind me a mature female student congratulates me.

the alarm goes. end of dream.