I woke up at about 3 this morning, had a coffee, did some stuff, felt sleepy, went back to bed for a nap. As I was lying there I was thinking about alternate realities, about how I need to make them the central concern in my practice, about how they’re not just subjective imaginings of the ego but intersubjective, linking people together. I must have dozed off, because it took awhile for me to realize that what I’d just been experiencing had been a dream…
I’m in France, hanging around at some guy’s office or possibly his apartment, I think he is American. I’m standing around reading a magazine without much interest. There’s another guy there too, somebody I did my postdoc with, pleasant but boring. It’s time to go to lunch; they ask me to come with them to a restaurant. I’m trying to save money, so I say no. But then I’m thinking, I really ought to make myself socialize more. Okay I’ll come.
We’re at the restaurant. It’s quite large and very crowded. It looks like the Full Moon, my favorite restaurant here in Boulder. I realize I left my stuff back at the office/apartment. I mention it to the guy whose place it is, and he shrugs indifferently — I figure I’ll have to go back after lunch. These two guys I’m with are having a drink. On the table is a bottle of tonic water and clear square plastic container about a foot cubed: inside the container is the booze, on top is some sort of mechanical siphon for dispensing the booze. I pour myself a glass of tonic, but I can’t figure out how the booze dispenser works. I ask the two guys: they fumble around with it giggling — I realize they’re already drunk and have nearly drained the container. I sip on my tonic.
My two companions get up and walk into the crowd of people standing around inside the restaurant. I wait. I’m surprised to see three young guys sit down on the bench right next to my chair. They speak to each other but do not acknowledge my presence. I sit and wait. I finish my glass of tonic, and start thinking that I ought to order myself a beer. After awhile the three young men on the bench get up and leave. I realize that the restaurant is nearly empty now. I also realize that my two friends must have left. The waitress passes by; she shrugs her shoulders and says in French that it’s strange, but they’ve gone. I realize that she is not going to bring me a bill for the drinks, but that my friends probably didn’t pay either. I get up to leave the restaurant.