Dream of: 28 December 2007 "Chipped Plate"

I had bought a plate (on sale) for 29 cents at a Wal Mart store. After taking the plate home, I had discovered it was chipped, and I had now brought the plate back to the Wal Mart store to return it. I was already talking with a Wal Mart employee (a man probably in his mid 20s), trying to straighten out the matter. He promised me the store would exchange the plate, but he said he was having difficulty finding a replacement for me.

The fellow finally got on the phone and started talking with someone. He handed the phone to me and I spoke with a woman on the other end. When she asked me about the plate, I told her what had happened, how I had bought the plate on sale and how I had found the chip in it when I had arrived home. She snapped back that she didn't think so, and she implied that I had chipped the plate myself when I had gone home.

I flew into a rage. I told her that such was not the case and that I hadn't chipped the plate. I thought of mentioning that I was a lawyer, but then decided not to bring that up. Instead, I told her I had already spent an hour there, and the hour didn't even include the 15 minutes required to drive there and the 15 minutes I would need to drive home. I said I therefore had an hour and a half invested in doing this "fucking thing." Continuing my imprecations, I said "fucking" a second time.

As she mumbled something, I had the feeling she was trying to write down everything I was saying. Suddenly, however, I couldn't hear her anymore, and I wondered if she had hung up on me. I said I was going to hang up and when my words evoked no response, I hung up the phone.

Upset, I began looking for the fellow who had handed me the phone. I thought to myself that I should have mentioned that Wal Mart employees had also spent an hour and a half working on this matter. I also thought if I were an employee there, I could break things in the store on purpose, just to get even.

I walked to the front of the store, where I thought I saw Michelle, but then realized the woman I saw wasn't nearly as pretty as Michelle. Then I did see Michelle, who looked very pretty, but I didn't speak to her. It seemed as if we had broken up and we hadn't been seeing or talking with each other lately.

I overheard Michelle talking with someone (who called Michelle "Shawnra") about Mark Tindall (a good friend when I had been in high-school), saying that Tindall was a drug addict and that he was trying to get off drugs. I thought I should go up to Michelle and tell her that Tindall and I used to be good friends. I thought if Tindall were trying to quit using drugs, I might even be able to somehow help him. I could tell him that I hadn't taken any drugs for almost three months and that getting off drugs was a "snap." But when I reflected more, I realized getting off some drugs was more difficult than getting off others. Michelle, for example, hadn't been able to stop taking the drugs she used, even though she had tried.

It didn't seem, however, that now was the appropriate time for me to talk with Michelle, and before I knew it, she had walked out of the store.

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