Ben Oostdam story # 375

Dream recorded morning of June 12, 2008:

I was with a small crew of men at some airport terminal when one of them told me he had seen three old duffelbags full of labels and markers sitting seemingly abandoned next to a stopped luggage transporter belt.
He had seen my name on one of the tags and asked me to come along.
We all went and decided to move the bags into a nearby lost luggage storage room.
The luggage clerks proposed we take the bags and our chief approved.

I had not seen these bags for some 18 years, and someone found a date on it of November 1983.
When I went though the bags I faintly recalled that it had been company policy of our seismic vessel charter operators that at the end of one's contract one had to return any and all items that had been purchased by them.

I found back one item which had caused me some problem of conscience:
a set of baked dough-dolls representing a naked man and woman holding each other in some obscene gesture and with dirty grins on their faces.
I recalled the Texan guy who had baked them for my birthday, and remembered that he used to fry a dozen eggs every time he got off duty at midnight, which he then completely covered with black pepper and red Tabasco sauce.
The fact that he had used flour from the galley to make the obscene cookies had convinced me that I had to return them to the company.

A bit of a non-sequitur but then, it was a dream ...

...and it continued with me getting into a Humvey parked behind a palatial hotel in Cartagena de los Indes in Colombia, and starting it. I had to drive very slowly and the only way I could steer it was by turning or wiggling the ignition key. I went around the corner extremely slowly and saw a large vacuum cleaner truck coming towards me. So I turned around again, parked the car in the same spot where I had found it, and ran away to my room.

Next, I was at the airport again, checking in some tree limb with roots when a customs - or agriculture inspector told me this was a prohibited item since it was horizontal and not vertical.
So I turned it around some 90 degrees and smiled triumphantly.
He bowed politely and let me pass through.

By that time I had dreamed enough and woke up - my wife was standing next to the bed with my morning coffee and breakfast, so I asked her to kindly bring me some writing pad and pen so I could record the dream before I would - as usual - forget it.
This caused another problem because she asked me to explain some notes I had made on the pad the night before, something like (no, exactly) this:
"Paarl R 890K-base rate 15%-years to repay 20-monthly R 11,719"
Her scathing comment made me wish I had kept dreaming on a bit longer,... but the coffee made up for it.
BLO fecit 20080612 - stories