dream

I started a new job as a business analyst in a food-testing lab. I came into the break area with my lunch, and I could tell by the looks from my new, skinny colleagues that they approved of neither the amount of mayonnaise nor the mound of shredded cheese on my deep-fried chicken sandwich.

“Just so you know, we have broiled chicken sandwiches in our cafeteria,” they offered helpfully.

I explained, “I got this one at Burger King, the temporary job I had before landing this one, and where I still have a commitment of 2 more shifts before my employment ends.”

“I didn’t know Burger King hired business analysts,” one of them meowed.

“I’m not a business analyst there. I’m working the line slinging Whoppers®—some even special ordered with extra mayo, add cheese,” I hissed back. “It was my first job 45 years ago while in high school, so it all came back to me very easily, and I was immediately promoted to ‘the front board,’ where the very best sandwich makers are assigned.”

I’m in one of those tiny university or community theaters with about only 10 rows of audience seating, and the play begins. The actor with the opening lines is not projecting very well, and the person in front of me turns around and hisses, “Turn it up!” To which I respond, “I’m a patron, not part of the stage crew.”

A minute or so later, in this opening scene, they turn up the house lights for some effect, during which a patron walks in late and takes the empty seat on the other side of the guy to the right of me. The late patron says loudly to the guy between us, “Hey! Is it Red Hat or Cisco that you work for?” to which the man whispers, “The show has already started.”

In the opening scene of the next act, a character is lying in a bed, and all of the other actors are looking at her. Nonplussed, she eventually stammers, “I’m thinking of a number…,” and another character says, “2014,” which I recognize as the Unicode representation of an em dash. Then the actor begins her part, and I realize that she had forgotten her lines and was asking for a line number in the script to remind her where they were.

It’s intermission and everyone except me leaves the theater for concessions or to use the restrooms. After about 2 minutes, no one has come back, and an usher comes in and says to me, a little annoyed, “That’s it. We’re stopping now.”