|Photo courtesy of Pixabay.com|
I was driving in Las Vegas, trying to find my hotel for a conference. There was a lot of construction, so getting around town was difficult. At one point, I made a right turn and ended up in the valet drive in front of The Bellagio hotel. A man, dressed to the nines and speaking with a foreign accent, stopped me.
"I'm sorry. I am just trying to find my hotel and I made a wrong turn," I told him. He looked down at me and raised his eyebrows.
"Well," he said in his haughty tone, "this is The Bellagio. Drive forward." He pointed in the general direction ahead of me.
For some reason, the drive was nearly impossible to navigate, as much of the drive turned into steps. Before I could get out of the drive, another man came over and handed me a bill with my name on it. The bill was for something like $146 for "sightseeing" in the valet drive. I got out of my car and went in to talk to someone about the bill.
As I entered, I saw my maternal grandparents sitting near a fountain on lounge chairs! They had not seen me.
"What are YOU doing here!?" I was so excited to see them, they both jumped when I startled them.
My Pappap (as I call him), looked at me with his trademark grin. It was the one he seemed to have permanently placed on his face. It was the he wore just before he would say, "Hey, Pal!" My grandmother smiled and said, "We're meeting the man who designed the White House!" She was excited as she added, "We're going to take a tour with him later!"
"In Washington!?" I exclaimed. "But, that's in DC and you are in Vegas."
"Yes, we're flying in his private jet!" She then asked, "What are YOU doing here?"
"I have a conference, but I made a wrong turn and now I have to pay a bill for driving through the valet parking," I said, as if all of this made perfect sense.
"Well, why don't you just stay here?" My grandmother asked.
(I am not sure what happened, but as often occurs in dreams, the next scene is a jump-cut to an elevator)
I am riding in an elevator, trying to find my hotel room at the Bellagio. Much like the construction, riding the elevators proves to be a difficult task. Suddenly, I am inside my grandparents' hotel room.
"I'm not supposed to be in here!" I try explaining to my Pappap. We were in the Penthouse Suite. "I am supposed to be on the second floor!"
I was trying to take in the scenery while also trying to figure out what I was going to do next when the dream came to an abrupt end - an upset stomach woke me from my sleep, but that is not a tale I wish to share.