Hello Seattle, I’m listening.
Okay, so I have to give a tiny bit of background to set up this dream. The television show, Frasier, aired the year I was born and concluded when I was ten. I grew up watching the show with my parents. It was one of the few “adult” shows I was allowed to watch as a kid, as the show was rarely overtly raunchy and their innuendos went way over my head. It was the show I would watch with my parents right before going to bed. Even after the show ended, I caught plenty of reruns during my high school years. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if I have seen every episode…But I haven’t watched an episode in several years.
From the lighting to the laugh track, the setup of my dream was like an episode of Frasier. Though it played out like a sitcom, I was perceiving it all like it was reality (of that makes sense.)
I was myself in this dream, though I had taken a very different career path. I had changed colleges, moved to Seattle, and got a degree in Education. (I’m actually a little jealous of dream me…minus the Education part.) However, I was finding it difficult to get a school job in Seattle, so I started looking for employment elsewhere. I answered an ad for a nanny/tutoring position in the wealthier neighborhoods.
I found myself in the home of Daphne and Niles Crane, they were interviewing me for the position. This seemed to take place several years after the final episode, as by now they had three children and their oldest was about ten. Daphne wanted to start working again, so they wanted someone to be able to take care of their children when they were working and tutor their son math and their daughter in reading outside of school. Daphne really seemed to like me, but Niles was hesitant and a bit rude to me. He didn’t seem too keen on having a stranger help raise his children and was very critical of me.
I must have gotten the job, because the next scene melts into (what I assume is) a few months later. I scramble through the Crane’s front door with some groceries in my hands.
“Sorry I’m late,” I groaned, exhausted. “But the line at the grocery store was horrendous. Then the scanner in my line kept breaking down in the middle of my checkout. Then some idiot in a Mercedes nearly ran me over as I was walking across the street!”
“Oh dear,” Daphne sympathized. “Kids, help her with the bags.” The two oldest assisted me with the groceries. I smiled at them; they were lovely kids.
It was Thanksgiving, because I had bought things to season the turkey and stuffing that Daphne was cooking. Also, Frasier and Marty were in the living room with Niles, visiting for the holiday. I introduced myself to the two men, as I had never met them before, though I did mention that I had heard Frasier on the radio when I was a child. I also thanked Niles for inviting me over for Thanksgiving, as all of my family was across the country, and I would have been alone. I must have earned his favor at some point, as he genuinely seemed to like me now.
We then had a casual discussion about Nile’s son and his current academic scores, especially his improved grades in math, which I was very proud of helping him accomplish (it’s funny because I hate math.)
“Freddy is here!” the girl came rushing in with excitement, jumping onto one of the sofas. A man a few years older than me walked in behind her. Instead of greeting him, I glared.
“You were the jerk in the Mercedes!” I growled. He glared back. I could hear the “oooh” of the audience.
“You’re the bimbo that ran into the street!”
“I had the right away!” My eyes kept darting between Frasier’s son and a decorative bust of Julius Caesar, wishing I could beat him upside the head with it. The confrontation must have really gotten underneath my skin. The near-fight was diffused when Marty suggested that we go check on Daphne in the kitchen. I agreed through gritted teeth and followed him out. The end.
Dream Score: 6/10. Not sure what happened recently to prompt this dream. It was interesting that my dream continued on an series that ended in 2010, with surprising accuracy. Everyone was aged about ten or so years, so it seemed realistic enough. Can you imagine a world where you can hear a laugh track and everyone just ignores it? Hah! Nothing mind-blowingly interesting, but at least I have a setup if I was ever pushed to write a fan fiction.