A dream of France.

The other night I dreamt I was in France.

I was walking down the street, and everywhere I looked, I thought, "That's a French house," or, "That's a French lawn," or, "That's a French person."

I stopped through a concert hall for a while; there was a youth orchestra performing and I was in the very back row, towards the right side of the auditorium, but people near me were talking since they didn't take the concert seriously since it was free admission, so I got up and left, even though I thought the youth orchestra sounded really good on the 1st piece.

After walking down a French street for a while, I stopped through a bakery - cafe, and somehow I was with my one (French) colleague from school, and we were there to catch up.  I kept looking at these chocolate croissants in large square multi-shelf glass cases stacked up on top of the counter, and when my colleague went to get a cup-saucer to hold the croissant that he was going to get out of the case with tongs, he noticed it was stained and dirty from years of dried coffee, made a face, and went it down to get another one, only to discover that the next several saucers in the pile were stained as well.

We sat down, and for some reason we were near an older French businessman who knew my colleague, and I made some sort of joke about how he oppressed the Arab immigrants and said they were dirty but gladly took their money when they were his customers.

Later, I was at another table with an older Dutch man, and I made the same sort of comment.

(...overall there were so many elements from my everyday life in that dream - the free concerts where people talk [=the summer concerts downtown], catching up with my French colleague [=we've bumped into each other a few times in the past couple weeks and have made tentative plans to], the croissant cases [=the cases I saw Beninese women carry on their head "when I was in Africa", the comments to Europeans [=shit I really say to them, when they get all know-ally and piss me off]...)