In An Alternate Portland

I had a dream this morning that I was in Portland, Oregon. I was there for something more specific than just visiting the city – like a conference or business meeting.

I was in line for a free book, which the Multnomah Library was giving away. I noticed that everyone in line, except for me, was a grade school aged child. I began to wonder if I’d made a mistake by getting in line.

Finally, my turn came to enter the library. The rule was that I could take one book off the shelf, and it would be mine to keep. The giveaway was restricted to the children’s section and, like the line outside, everyone scanning the shelves for the book they wanted. I had made a mistake, after all.

I tried to make the best of the situation. I scanned the shelves for a book I might like.

In the middle of one aisle, there was a young boy at a table, signing copies of a book he had written. Suddenly, it became a book signing, rather than a book giveaway.

This young boy and I knew each other. He called me “Mister” and my last name, but I insisted that he call me “Paul”. And he did. We talked for a while. He asked me why I don’t write a blog post every day. I explained that I post only when I feel like it, and that I don’t want my blog to be an obligation.

After we’d talked for a while, I looked at my watch. It was 4:30. I panicked a little. I was due to meet with someone. I said goodbye, and left the library.

Suddenly, I was lost. I couldn’t remember which way I needed to go in order to get Downtown.

(In the dream, Portland looked nothing like anything I’ve actually seen in Portland.)

Down an alleyway, I saw a streetcar go by. I knew that, eventually, a streetcar would get me someplace recognizable.

Next, I was in a sketchy, rundown park with a streetcar stop in the middle of it. A woman was buying a ticket from the ticket machine, slowly inserting one coin at a time.

Next, I was on the streetcar. We were riding along an oceanfront boulevard, lined with palm trees. I realized that I had forgotten to tap my ORCA card before boarding. I panicked.

End of dream.

One thought on “In An Alternate Portland

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