The Joseph Cotten Dream
Yes, it was another military dream, this one featuring a chief master sergeant (E9) named Cotten who looked just like the late actor, Joseph Cotten.
It started with recovery from military action where several of my people had been killed. I was angry about it because I felt that a planning fuckup was to blame. We were in retreat and recovery mode, filling up a large hangar at night. As people sat in folding mental chairs, some young officer came in shouting about it being fine, not to worry, everything went well. His announcement infuriated me. I snapped, “It’s not fucking fine, sir, it’s not fine when some of my people are dead.”
He responded by circling around me, pointing a finger and demanding to know what I said as everyone else stopped to watch and listen. I repeated it all. Still walking and pointing a finger at me, he warned, “You better check your attitude, the general won’t like that.”
I replied, “I don’t give a shit what the general likes, sir.”
Chief Cotten came over to calm me and the rest down. Yeah, soothing words and a smarmy attitude were employed, which I wasn’t in the mood to swallow. He suggested we have a cuppa coffee and a chat, verifying my name, then trying to flatter me into being more reasonable, telling me, “I’ve heard of you, you have a big rep. Everyone is expecting a lot from you.” I walked away from him, pissing him off, but I was beyond caring.
In a dream shift, I was sitting at a table when several young officers came in, offering me burgers. The burgers were leftovers from somewhere, but they thought I probably hadn’t eaten and would like them. I was pleased and grateful they thought of me and ate the big ol’ burgers with a grin, enjoying every bite.
Another dream shift found us preparing for an exercise. I was late in arriving but queued up in the long, single-file line. Chief Cotten joined me, asking me how I was doing, giving me a cuppa coffee to drink while I waited my turn. Like everyone else, I was in my woodland camoes, but I realize everyone else seemed to have mobility bags and helmets. I had neither. Getting rid of the coffee and leaving the line, I went around asking questions about what was going on and why I wasn’t given a mob bag. No one could answer but another senior NCO suggested that I just take what I needed.
Still cranky, I found a mob bag but when I opened it, there was a thin pink bedspread inside, like the one that used to be on my mother’s guest bed. What the fuck, I thought, which was where the dream ended.
Another Work Dream
Yes, it was another work dream, but it incorporated several twists.
To begin, I’d started a new position. A young guy, I was pleased and excited to be there. They showed me my station – ‘in the basement’. Although it was down in the lower level, it had plenty of light and my workstation was huge. Featuring an enormous semi-circle for a desk, I had a large modern monitor, new laptops, and wireless mouse. When I sat in the plush black office chair, I was enormously pleased. I was ready to go to work.
SW came to me. SW was an office manager in my RL. She came by and apologized to me for not offering me better accommodations. I laughed, replying, “Are you kidding? This is a great setup, better than my last one.” Nevertheless, she insisted that she planned to get me a better location, and she was working on it. That, to me, was a twist — an apology for what I saw as a wonderful opportunity.
Meanwhile, another young employee came by, a pale female with short dark hair. She’d been sent to take me around and personally teach me everything. The way she intoned it was loaded with sexual innuendo, instantly triggering wariness in me. The young woman was in a long-sleeved red and black top, and what seemed to be a very short skirt, and was attractive. We went about the office complex together. She stayed in my space, and I would shy back, as she introduced me to people and showed me the meeting rooms, office equipment, and files. The complex was a great, modern space. Everyone I met seemed happy and acted professional. It was all inclusive as far as race, the sexes, and ethnicity. I was pleased to be part of this enterprise.
We were soon the last ones there. SW came by to ask if we were okay locking up the place for the day. No problem, we assured her. I then struggled to remember the PIN to let me in to go back down to my office. I was stunned that I couldn’t think of it. But I realized, I could just walk around the receptionist’s space and go to it. It was strange; why was a PIN even needed when it was so easily circumvented?
My personal guide asked me if I had plans for the night. I told her that I didn’t, but maybe my wife did. She kept suggesting we could have dinner together or go have a few drinks, and I kept mentioning my wife. She finally said, “Well, I should put my pants back.” Then she stood up and started pulling on black pants.
I was aghast. “You’ve been going around in your underwear?” Yes, she answered, it’s no big deal.
The dream ended.
Michael Seidel, writer 