The vivid nature of this dream makes it feel so true, and real and part of actual life. Dreams of this sort do not occur often, but whether they are happy or sad, uplifting or demoralizing.... they are so vivid feeling.... that they are hard to shake out of one's mind:
The fellow was balding, but grey-haired. He sported a beard that was mostly grey but he had a thick, dark mustache that was rusty colored at the tips. He was approximately my age, or perhaps a few years older even though I was far more grey than he. His face was round, his eyes somewhat squinty behind small, round, wire-rimmed steel glasses.
We were in some city, somewhere warm on an island somewhere. My wife and I had just moved here after finally deciding to retire. It seemed like a very big city. Perhaps we were somewhere in Puerto Rico... I do not really know.
I had written to the fellow saying that I had retired and was looking for a part time job where I was moving to and that I would like to see if he had any openings. He owned the island's (only, I presume) pipe/tobacconist shop. He wrote back inviting me to stop by to talk. The day after my wife and I had settled into our newly purchased condominium, I bicycled down the pathway to reach downtown and proceeded to the shop.
Upon meeting him, I could hear a hint of an accent, but it was not overly distinct. In some ways it had a German quality to it, in some ways it sounded Spanish. It was interestingly variable. He told me I was invited to work with him up to 20 hours a week if I was interested.
Working at a pipe shop has always been something I thought would be enjoyable... both when I was a kid growing up, in college, and even thought about in adulthood.
The fellow, being the owner, had a few simple rules:
One, workers needed to carry around a pipe with them (or at least in their shirt pocket) all the hours that they worked.
Two, workers were encouraged to smoke their pipe as often as they wished during their time in the shop, but while working they all needed to smoke the designated pipe tobacco brand of the day. The shopkeep went on to explain to me that he liked the room note to be cohesive each day, and that he would rotate blends each day to keep up variety.
Three, in order to promote both a formal and informal atmosphere, the uniform (or costume) we were to wear while working was to be khaki pants, a loud, tropical-print button down, short-sleeved shirt, and, interestingly a necktie that clashed and contrasted with the shirt. Hell, that seemed easy enough.... I have worn ties my whole life. :)
Four, while working, we needed to be open, friendly, and helpful to the customers.
It seemed like a wonderful, fun adventure for me, and I asked if I could start out with 10 hours a week (two hours a day) to see how things would go. He agreed this was a good idea. I then bicycled back to the condo to tell my wife.
We were eating a light dinner while I told her about the adventure, and she seemed to think it would be good and fun for me to pursue.
That evening we went to bed, and I had in my mind the get-up I would wear on my first day, and had the right pipe, all cleaned and shiny to carry with me.
In the morning, my wife and I had a breakfast of oatmeal, toast, and a bunch of cut up fruit. I had my typical 24 ounce coffee poured over ice, my wife had her tea. I then got dressed in my pleasantly gaudy best, and peddled off to the shop.
I had just parked my bike and locked it to a sign, and was about to enter the shop.....
"BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP"
(*&% !! *(^*U !!! *&((( !!!! The damn alarm clock went off and woke me from my dream!
I got up, put on my running clothes and went to do my morning run. But, the vividness of that dream.... seemed so utterly real.
PipeTobacco
