yet another odd dream…
in this dream, i was trying to find A, i had met him for coffee and we were having a really good conversation but i had to go. i had two job interviews to get to, back to back. so i left, and was driving this miniature golf cart, really sub-size.
i get to the interview and it goes well. i return to the cart to drive to the next one, but the battery pack in the rear of the car has caught on fire while i was in the interview and the cart is completely inoperable.
i pull out my pda, but then remember, it isn’t a phone. so i pull out my cell and try to call him, but then remember, i don’t have his number. i ‘duh’ at myself, then remember i do have his email address. so i send a text message. but my service is flakey and it bounces.
i look around for any place that might have a phone, but the area i’m in is kind of ghetto-ish. the business i interviewed at is closed now, everyone has left, and it is after twilight. behind the building is a large parking lot and in the middle of the far end is a metal building with a large, barb-wire fence around it, and two cement posts in front of the only door.
between me and this building are about ten vans. they’re white, with red lettering that reads ‘MAXI TAXI’ in comic lettering. each van has several men in it, and they’re revving their engines and lining up behind one another in their vans along this buffet table.
on the buffet table are huge pans of hot dogs and buns, ketchup, mustard, onions. they’re pulling up, hands reaching out of windows and fighting one another to get to the food. as each van’s occupants get several hot dogs for themselves, the van screeches off from the table, only to careen wildly and circle back for more.
i’m walking across the lot toward the building, and they almost run me over. i duck and run, they do not apologize. giving them a much wider berth now, i continue, and they ignore me.
i arrive at the metal building and as i’m about to knock on the door, it swings open. the man at the door is in his late 30’s… he has sandy brown hair, and green eyes. he looks at me as if they get a lot of visitors and he’s tired of it.
i tell him i’ve broken down, and ask if i may use the phone to call for help. he says, ‘yeah, i’ve heard THAT one before…’ and starts to close the door. i plead, and tell him he can see for himself that my cart is inoperable, just look… and i point. he leans out the door cautiously, looking both sides before stepping out to follow my pointing. seeing the burned car, he looks at me and nods, then returns inside and leaves the door open for me.
as i walk in, he says, ‘make sure you close and lock it.’ so i do.
the inside of this place is much larger than is possible from its outside appearance. and the entire place is literally crammed full of miniatures. of all sorts. fantasy figures, battlefield figures, strange hybrids, animals, building elements, you name it, it’s there.
the look of the place is a tinker’s workshop, or perhaps that ‘one room’ that a serious collector/model-maker has in the home. years of collection and not a lot of organization, but you know without knowing how you know that the people here know where to find every, single thing in the place.
there is a narrow path through it all, and to my left there is a table on which the most exquisite set has been constructed. it’s still in natural state, made of clay, not yet painted. it is a large, greek style theater. it sits on a piece of plywood that has holes drilled into it, and there are small trees placed in some of them.
the man sees my interest and grins, taking a moment to explain how they place the trees first, then build the landscape using moldable foam, clay, or whatever serves the purpose.
we move further back and there is a computer haphazardly set up over a desk that is literally heaped with figurines. at this desk sits a casually dressed, merry looking fellow. he is not ‘attractive’ in any popular sense, but he has the aura of contentment and peace and happiness around him that renders him extremely attractive to me.
he looks up briefly and i note the laser-cobalt-icy blue of his eyes. he smiles. i blush. he looks to the man in front of me, ‘need to get in here?’ at the replying nod, he pulls his chair closer to his desk. the man in front of me squeezes in, barely, and looks at me as if to say, ‘well, what are you waiting for?’
i squeeze in behind him. we’re packed there in ridiculous fashion. he’s trying to reach the phone that apparently, is upon a shelf on level with the seat of the chair in which the blue-eyed desk-worker is sitting. he can almost reach it. i’m laughing for the silliness of this, but can see there isn’t enough room for the man at the desk to get up and maneuver out of the way.
as i’m waiting for the phone to be fished up, i’m looking over the seated man’s shoulder, watching him work. he’s got a graphical interface up and is laying out terrain and textures for what appears to be a two-dimensional, ‘over the shoulder’ game. i am tempted to chuckle, as these games are so old that they are rarely commercially viable… and i’m curious why a business would be pursuing design of such things.
the seated man somehow hears the suppressed chuckle, and he says quietly, ‘this is a hobby of mine. would you like to see what we do for a living?’ i say, ‘sure…’ and he minimizes the window and brings up another…
the interface is a front end for a graphical engine. i can tell by looking at it. the viewport displays a filmed scene from the real world. i’m curious now, because i see no second viewport. he waits, like he knows i have a question. so i ask, ‘ok… so where’s the rendering viewport?’
he looks up and over his shoulder so he can see my face as he replies, ‘you’re looking at it.’
both men laugh at my expression. they knew precisely what i thought… anticipated it. i can’t help my jaw dropping as i murmur, ‘no WAY.’ the man at the desk laughs and turns back to the application, making a few keyboard commands and the image drops into mesh mode.
i’m stunned. it is an absolutely photo-realistic world. i don’t even know how he’s running it on this machine, as the machine is obviously an older one. he isn’t looking at me as he asks, but i can hear the grin in his voice as he says, ‘want to see how we do it?’
“Hell yeah!” is my immediate response. they both laugh out loud, like kids who know they they finally have someone’s attention. they next hour is spent lovingly demonstrating this engine. the more they show me, the more amazed i am, until finally, i just say, ‘you really shouldn’t be showing this to me.’ they laugh again and the man by my side asks with a grin, ‘who would believe you?’
he has a point.
i ask what they call it, and they say at almost the same, exact moment, ‘illusion.’ and we all laugh, because it is just such a perfect fit.
the man by my side looks at me and says, ‘you mentioned an interview. do you still need to call them?’ i look at him and grin and reply, ‘it depends… are you hiring?’ another round of laughter is shared.
the interaction turns to an interview. i tell them about myself, my background, and eventually hand them the resume, which for some odd reason, i just happened to have with me. they’re looking at each other like they’re communicating without words, and the man at the desk says, ‘ok, i need to stretch my legs.’
we carefully move into the aisle and give him space to leave the desk, winding up grouped around the greek theater model. they each hand me a business card. i take an extra one, and write my personal email address on it, along with my home number, and extend my hand… they both reach for it, then laugh to one another. the blue-eyed man winds up taking it.
he grins to me and says, ‘we’re interested.’ he motions toward the door, indicating our time is up. i find i am strangely reluctant to leave, but am embarrassed for it and so, say nothing. when we arrive to the door, i unlock it and start to open it, the blue-eyed man puts his hand on my shoulder as i do so, saying, ‘we’re serious. we will be in touch. it’s just…’, he motions around to the amazing mess and then grins as he meets my eye to complete the sentence, ‘we need to make some room for you first.’
we all laugh and i exit. oddly, it is daylight. my poor cart is still sitting with its hind wheel in the ditch, inoperable. i finally remember i still need to call a taxi and i turn around to knock on the door… but then, remember the bus runs just up the street, so decide to take it instead.
the taxi vans are all parked against the far fence, the table from their feast is gone, the entire lot is silent and quiet in the somewhat misty morning. i make it to the bus stop just as the bus pulled onto the road from a corner half a block down. it arrives, i board, pay my fare, and take a seat. setting my head against the window, i nod off to sleep… which is what wakes me up.