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Dream About A Strange Bus

This dream keeps hovering over my mind. Strange how some dreams do.

I’m standing at the bus stop with a co-worker. We are heading for work, we are late, the bus is late, too. I don’t know where we are and I have no clear plan how we get to work. The bus is just a vague idea. It will take us SOMEwhere – and relatively fast. If you want to get SOMEwhere to take the bus seems like a good idea. My co-worker isn’t trustworthy in this. He knows even less than I do.

Finally the bus arrives. I take my grandfather’s pocket watch out of my breast pocket. I have it on a golden watch chain. I know it’s late, I don’t want to check the time, the gesture is my way to show my disapproval to the bus driver.

We enter the bus, I go first and notice that from inside the bus has no windows, not even a windshield – just solid walls with white wallpaper. I look at the driver and say: “Oh, that’s difficult driving, isn’t it?” He answers: “I was late and this was the only bus left at the depot. It’s difficult to drive this way and I drag behind schedule more and more. What kind of ticket may I give you?” – I don’t know. I have no idea where my workplace is – I just hope to find it as the bus passes familiar territory. As I can’t name a destination I opt for the cheapest ticket but pay with a big banknote. Handing me my change the driver asks: “Your pal gets 2,40, too?” I say “I didn’t want 2,40 – I wanted 1,30!” I’m getting angry and excited. He says “It’s ok, it’s ok. I gave you a 2,40 ticket for 1,30.” I check my change and find he gave me back much more than I gave him. But all in old German Mark coins. Suddenly the silver coins look very valuable. I like this bus driver.

He says: “Your pal seems a bit disorientated. Please help him with the money.” I turn to my co-worker. He is just standing there, purse in his hand and understands nothing. I open that purse and try to find the change – but there are only colored triangles in there. Like pieces of a pie chart.

The bus driver gets very excited and says these are not colorful pieces of a pie chart – but windows. He says all his windows had turned to powder because he had not cared for them properly – so he wants to buy the pie chart windows from my co-worker’s purse. They start to bargain over the price while the bus still stands at the stop and it’s getting later and later.

I turn away and find a table with an old tablecloth and a vase of flowers on it. There is a couch so I sit down. Will we ever find our workplace?

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