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Dreams 2-20-16

February 20, 2016

[Another example of the wiley night brain making hay in the moonlight out of herbes of the day (yesterday’s page).]

I was traveling with a woman friend (in our 40s or 50s) by plane. As we neared our destination my friend had to pee, but it seemed she could put it off until we got to the terminal. However, by the time we got onto the ground her situation had become urgent. She stood up, stepped into the aisle, and told a flight attendant (all of whom were women) that she needed to use the restroom. The flight attendant pointed to a door and explained that there was a restroom on the plane, but it was reserved for staff. My friend would have to wait. The flight attendant did not seem to register the urgency of the situation.

Meanwhile, another flight attendant was distributing the snacks. They had waited to do so until the flight had ended. She gave me a large bag with sacks of chips and such.

My friend, standing in the aisle with a distressed look on her face, said to the flight attendant, “I guess I’m going to have…” and we heard a pissing sound. Pee ran down her legs.

The flight attendant appeared to be at a loss. Many of the passengers, still seated, turned and looked at my friend as she stood peeing in the aisle. The expressions on their faces, however, while surprised, were not blaming. They registered the facts of the matter, felt bad for my friend, but thought that her action made sense and was just one of those things that happen, if rare.

My response was the same.

[[ Author’s note: I know what my narrator is talking about. I’ve been there. When I was eight years old, shortly after the beginning of 3rd grade, we moved and I changed schools. Probably the second or third morning in my new classroom, we were all seated in our wooden desk chairs (with the drawer that slid open, below the seat, for your supplies), listening to Miss Tingley. I remember vaguely feeling a growing need, and having no idea what to do about it, and then feeling my pants become warm and wet, at my crotch and then along my leg. Students were silently looking at me, and Miss T said, gently, “Tommy, what happened?” She told me to stand while we waited for the janitor, and I stood looking down at the pool of water under my chair.

I have remembered that episode from time to time, and my memory is that I stood there, embarrassed, while the janitor mopped the floor; but I did not feel ashamed. The students, none of whom I knew, some of whom became my dearest friends and some of whom I’m still occasionally in touch with, did not do anything to cause a sense of guilt. Nor did the teacher or the janitor. We were all surprised but not nonplussed. Miss Tingley said, “The way we do it is that if you have to use the restroom when class is going on, just hold up your hand.” TK

Update: I remember the responses of my classmates as being something like, look what happened to that new kid; that almost happened to me once; or, that might happen to me. Lots of old-fashioned Greek wisdom, such as Huck showed on the steamboat that was sinking in the storm. ]]

From → dreams, Uncategorized

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