Randy and I were going to the library. Randy is a friend who died of colon cancer five years ago. He was a few months older than me.
In the dream, he was the Randy I always knew, although he was driving a black Mustang GT, which is unlike Randy. When, in the dream, we got out of the car, I said, “I like that car. I’ve rented one three times now, although they were the next generation. All of them were white. One was a convertible.”
Randy said, “I know, you told me.”
We went into the library. It was a modern brick and glass building. They’d called me to fix something there. Randy was just giving me a ride. Then he and I were going off to have a beer.
In the library, I sought the head librarian. She gave me blueprints. They were highlighted by supports that I needed to fix. She went off immediately. As I studied the blueprints, Randy asked, “Why are they having you do this?”
I replied, “I’ve done it before, and they know that, I guess.”
Studying the prints and the building, I found where the supports were to be fixed. But as I studied the situation, I decided that what they intended wouldn’t work.
Off I went to find the head librarian.
She was in another section with a man, working on fixing something else. Seeing me, the man said, “Oh, just fix it.”
Showing them the blueprints, I explained to them what I thought was wanted and why I didn’t think they’d work.
The head librarian said, “Well, you’ll have to take it up with him. He’s the one that sent the plans down. I’m just a messenger.”
I’m like, “Who is him? How do I get old of him?”
But the librarian was ignoring me.
I went off again to reconsider the supports and the fix. I remained convinced that they wouldn’t work.
People started entering the library. Some event was going on. Randy and I found books and then sat down to read, along with dozens of others. Most were men.
A woman introduced a man. The man, small and dark, began speaking. I stopped reading to listen to him but he was speaking so softly, I couldn’t hear and understand him.
Randy kept reading. Seeing that, the man walked over and handed Randy a card, and then walked away. He was still talking but I couldn’t hear him.
Holding up the card, Randy said, “What’s this? Let me take my glasses off.” He couldn’t do that because he had a book in his hand. He handed me the card. I read, “See what you’re missing when you don’t listen?” on it. Randy took his glasses off, handed them to me, and took the card. As he read the card and I held his glasses, I realized that my palms were sweating and his glass lenses were getting wet and smudged.
I apologized to Randy as I handed his glasses back. That’s where the dream ended.