sales karate

Dream 1

I was in some space like a lobby for a hotel or theater, or possibly some fancy, old restaurant where there are various levels separated from each other by a few stairsteps. The atmosphere was calmly bright and active. A lot of people may have been milling about.

I was with my oldest nephew. But he was young, maybe only five or six years old. He was either practicing martial arts or else giving an acting performance about the martial arts. He stood at the top of a staircase, facing away from the steps. A man stood facing my nephew, a couple meters away. The man was probably tall, bald, white, and wiry.

Apparently the story was that the man facing my nephew would come at him. But my nephew would somehow cause the man, who was much bigger than he, to fall down the steps. Possibly this performance had been done before. But my nephew may have been attacked that time, or may simply have managed to make the man fall down the steps. So now my nephew was worried he wouldn't succeed. But I was sure he'd been fine.

I tried to figure in my head how exactly my nephew would get the man thrown down the steps. I thought he might throw the man. But then I realized he might just step out of the way at the right moment and let the man fly down the steps on his own momentum.

Now I was in my nephew's place. But I wasn't my nephew. My nephew was still around. But it was like I stepped in for him, possibly to make sure the man fell down the steps.

The man came at me. I'm honestly not sure what happened next. I may have caught the man and used his momentum to throw him. Or I may have just let him fall.

But whatever I did, the man flew up in the air, like he'd been thrown. He flipped over, so that his head was pointed straight down. Then he descended straight down, either onto the floor or onto the last step before the floor. He landed on his head. He bounced, then landed on his back a few meters away. I knew the man had likely broken his neck. I wasn't sure I'd meant things to end like that.

I ran down the steps to meet the man. He was surrounded by a bunch of people now. His feet may have been at the very edge of a platform for a train, like a train was pulling up directly into this restaurant- or hotel-like area.

I looked at the man. I may have held his head in my hands. The man looked up through woozy, slitted eyes. I could tell the man was either paralyzed or at the brink of death.

I was now in some dark area that was like an indoor area of a hotel, with a lot of elevated planters filled with plants and some separated, gazebo like areas that people could sit in. The area was mostly dark. But lights shone on some of the structures, possibly because people were using those structures at the moment.

I was carrying something that was supposed to be work-related papers. But it was actually a woman's blouse, or some kind of top. It was a dull blue, possibly with paisley designs on it. It was probably sleeveless. It had a satiny feel. And it may have been stained with something like chocolate.

I walked up to two old coworkers from a job I left in March. One was one of the tech leads: an older, white woman, overweight, her face a little worn out, with darkish blonde hair. The other was the head of sales: a bald, white man about my height, but wider and more muscular.

I may have realized at this point that my "work papers" were a sales pitch. I may have come down to this area to practice my sales pitch. I'd run into the tech woman and sales guy by accident. This was inconvenient. I didn't want them to start paying attention to me and stop me from taking care of my task.

But I may also have had to take care of some other task with the tech woman and sales guy. So I may have thought I'd just take care of it now, while they were in front of me. As I approached them, possibly to present my "work papers," I had an edge of the blouse crammed in my mouth, and I was sucking and slobbering on it.

The tech woman may have taken some actual papers from me. Or she may have acknowledged that I'd brought the papers. But she sort of made it clear that she didn't really want to talk to me. And as soon as she could, she started hurrying away, possibly saying something to shove me off onto the sales guy.

But the sales guy didn't want to talk to me, either. He noticed that I had my "work papers" in my hands. He remembered that I was studying a sales pitch. He may have said at some point (i.e. before the dream) that he'd help me study the pitch. But he hadn't really wanted to, and I hadn't really wanted him to.

The sales guy apologized to me for not having helped me learn my pitch. I possibly didn't say anything in return, not wanting the guy to gauge any of my reactions in a way that would make him want to help me.

But then the sales guy may have asked me for my "work papers." I didn't want to give them to him -- possibly because I didn't want him to take away the sales pitch before I learned it (he'd probably wanted to stop me from learning it); but also because I really did know that I was just holding a slobbery, chocolate-stained blouse in my hands, and I didn't want the sales guy to notice this. So I didn't know what I should do.