Hiding from the boss

I arrived at a place I used to work and started walking through the factory as a short-cut to where I wanted to be. I was not wearing the necessary safety equipment so I was trying to get through as quickly as possible.

Part way through my old boss caught me and showed me to another supervisor, who then showed me what I would be doing that day. It was at this point that I remembered that I do actually work here and the bosses didn't bother trying to find out where I had been all this time.

I was wearing my "decent" clothes so I was concerned about them being ruined.  Nonetheless I got on with my job, as jobs are rare these days, which seemed to involve bending metal for no particularly obvious reason.

I got bored of that and the next thing I knew I was on my motorbike in the car park. Only the front of the building was no longer a factory, more of a hotel lobby.

I saw my boss, and the other chap, coming out of the building so I hid so that he wouldn't see that I was skiving. I started my bike, which isn't a quiet animal, and rode it out of the car park past the bosses, in the hope they wouldn't see me.

I had originally had a plan but I cannot remember what it was. This work lark was a nuisance that got in the way.

I returned to the car park, making sure to take the back entrance, with some yummy food. I then returned to my job and continued as if nothing had happened.

Then I woke up, perplexed.

But what does it all mean?

Airport troubles

We were going on a friend's stag do, let's called him Alan, despite the fact we've already been on it and he's now married.

I do not know where we were going but we were taking a light aircraft, just big enough for the stag party to fit. Oddly, his sister was also coming and she happened to be Eva Brittin-Snell.

His stupid sister decided she had to suddenly do something despite the fact we were already on the plane and darted back into the airport. My friend, of course, followed her.

The pilot started getting more and more annoyed as we had to wait and eventually gave up and started taxiing to the runway.

On the way to the runway we were informed that the two were heading back to the plane but the pilot couldn't wait. They were therefore forced to run after the plane despite the obvious safety implications.

As the plane was holding at the start of the runway to be given permission to take-off the two managed to catch up (although there was a third person - I don't know who or why) and jump on through the open door of the aircraft like a scene from a military movie. The whole thing was ridiculous.

"Shame," I said out loud, "I really wanted to bang Alan's sister." Apparently she was already in her seat and I had missed that fact.

The aircraft got up to speed and I noticed we were heading downhill through a tunnel. The end of a tunnel appeared to be a wall. Upon reaching the end I realised that there was a corrugated steel wall, but there was just enough space for a light aircraft to maneuver out of the way. This became apparent to me as my point of view had pulled out of the aircraft to a camera-like view in 3D where I watched the plane turn around and fly off.

A few minutes into the flight the pilot turned around and headed back towards the airport, not bothering to tell us why. It remained unclear why until we departed the plane and headed back into the building. It turns out we hadn't gone through passport control, somehow, and Customs insisted we return immediately, although I do not know under what kind of threat.

We made our way through passport control and headed for the toilets before we were due to jump back on the plane, as it had no such facilities. I assume we had all been drinking quite heavily as it was a stag do and not doing so is simply not cricket. I noticed a man peeing in a corner outside of the toilets, dirty boy. When I reached the toilets I discovered why: there were no male toilets. They were all female.

However, being eagle-eyed and really not caring either way where I pee, I noticed a disabled toilet and headed for that. The wallies hanging around were as confused as they always are by a disabled toilet: assuming that the toilets are for disabled people ONLY and hence discriminatory towards able-bodied people. Luckily I have more sense, even in my dreams.

I found it difficult to do my business as the lock on the door was broken, but I really needed to go so I managed to start a leak.

Mid-pee the male toilet attendants thought it would then be a good time to refill the paper towels and do their general duties, even though I was mid flow. They left the damned door open too so people could see me tinkle!

And then I woke up.

But what does it all mean?