My Dream (a letter to my wife)

My Dear Wife,

I dreamed a dream last night. It was a good dream, because I dreamed of you. In this dream we were students, yes students. It’s really weird already, isn’t it? At first we were studying the French language. Later it seemed that we were studying the cuisine of France. But I’m on a diet and when you’re on a diet you’re always hungry and you’re always thinking about la cuisine.

The course was very easy, because we had studied French in high school and college. It was a good review for us. At first the professor was very serious. But later, as more of the class time was taken up with talk of food, he began to play practical jokes in class. The first time I noticed this, the lesson was on the wonderful French comfort food served in the bistros of Paris. We were talking about the bistro La Poule Au Pot and its signature dish Chicken in the Pot Garni. I was writing and when I looked up the professor had vanished. There was an immense chicken in front of the class. I turned my head toward you, but you were writing and did not see The Great Chicken. I turned back to look at him but he was gone and the professor was in front of the class again. He was smiling at me as if he had played a very funny joke.

In succeeding classes it seemed that the lessons were all about food and the professor ducked out more and more often. Whenever the professor was absent, The Great Chicken was in front of the class. But, the professor was always present at the beginning of the class. Now, in this class you always sat on my right and a young woman who was constantly asking questions always sat on my left.

One day when The Great Chicken was in front of the class the young woman who sat on my left asked “What wine do we use in preparing coq a vin?” I thought Oh la la she’s mocking him. The Great Chicken will be furious. Perhaps he will go away and never come back again. But, I was mistaken. The Great Chicken just clucked calmly. He said “Cluck, cluuuck, cluuck, cluck, cluuuuck”. The young woman who sat on my left was writing. I looked at her notes. She had written “Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck.”

At the next class session, the professor was not present at the beginning of the class for the first time. Why not? I don’t know. Perhaps that day was his wife’s birthday. Perhaps he had taken the day off to celebrate with her. Perhaps he was in the dean’s office. Perhaps the dean was reprimanding him for his horseplay in class. Of course, The Great Chicken was in front of the class.

The young woman who sat on my left arrived a bit late. She said “Pardon me sir. Your shopping bag is on my chair.” I looked at her chair. To my great surprise, there actually was a shopping bag there. I placed it on the floor. I looked inside. The bag contained a large knife (actually a cleaver), an onion, parsley, ground pork, ground veal, an egg, salt, pepper, carrots, leeks, turnips, whole cloves, celery, small potatoes and a bouquet garni. What a coincidence! The bag contained almost all of the ingredients for Chicken in the Pot Garni. The only ingredient that was missing from the shopping bag was strutting and clucking in front of the class.

Then my dream became a jumble. People were running. People were shouting. Perhaps there had been a fire in the chemistry lab. The young woman who sat on my left fainted. I tried to bring her around, but she let out a piercing shriek and fainted again. I thought let’s wait for professional help.

Now my dream is very clear. Yes, I’m dreaming still. This letter, this bed, this cell, the guard in the hall are all part of my dream, but they seem so real. Tomorrow, when I wake up. Where will I be? Here, or next to you, in our bed, at home? I love you. I miss you.

Your Loving Husband

No Name

GTE Government Systems in Mountain View, CA together with our team mates from another nearby company were a mighty force. The other guys were the team leader so four of us GTE guys went over to their place to get briefed. The big prize was an Air Force contract for a computer based training system.

After introductions all around, their head guy declared that so and so other company should have won this contract, but they had shit the bed. We all nodded knowingly and tried not to look askance. He assured us that, were there betting on such things, we would be the favorites. Provided, and this is important, that we also didn't shit the bed.

He briefed us on the customer and the system and answered our questions. He was thorough and managed to get in "shit the bed" whenever it seemed appropriate and even a few times when it didn't.

A week later was our big pitch at the customer's place, an Air Force base about 20 miles out of Boston. Our hotel was nearer to the customer's place than to the historic city. Since this was 1986, the skies were still relatively friendly and the flight uneventful, still we didn't check in to our hotel until late afternoon because of the time difference. Two meetings were scheduled for the hotel bar. In those days before text messaging and teleconferencing, you met in the bar, had a few drinks and talked about what you needed to talk about. Primitive, but it worked.

The first meeting was among us GTE guys and was set for just after we checked in and did what we had to do in our rooms. The second meeting was at 9 pm with our team mates from the other company. Why two meetings? Why not all meet when we got in? Big inter company intrigue? No. The other guys took a different flight. ETA unknown.

First thing was where to eat supper. Two guys voted for the No Name in Boston. I had never heard of it, but they made a hard sell so I wanted to eat there too. Don, our team leader said it was mostly an excellent plan, but it had a fatal flaw. It was unlikely we could make it to Boston, eat at the No Name and return in time for the big 9 pm meeting. Since we were out in the country, our choice was pretty well limited to the hotel dining room.

After dinner we congratulated ourselves on our prudence, if not our dining experience. In fact, those of us who had dessert had to take it to the bar in order to get there by 9. The other guys weren't there so we watched Monday night football. It starts at 9 on the east coast. Must make a long night for the players. By halftime the other guys still weren't there and we had had enough drinks that the bartender was willing to bring out the mixed nuts. They were quite good. Actually a cut above what we ate in the dining room. When the game ended, the bar closed and we went to our rooms.

Next morning we were back in the dining room for breakfast. The guys from the other company came in. Their leader apologized for not showing up last night. They had gone in to eat at the No Name and it was real late when they got back. Apology accepted. We went to the customer's place, made our pitch, had a nice lunch and got an afternoon flight to San Francisco. Because of the time difference, we were home in plenty of time for supper. That's it. End of story. What? What's that? Did we get the contract? No. We shit the bed.