In my dream, I am at a banquet meeting in a fancy corporate dining hall that reminds me more of one that might be found in a castle. I am at the head of the table and the department director is sitting next to me on my right. He is dark-haired, cut short, with a pointed, almost devilish-looking beard or goatee. Another, older man is standing behind us, giving a presentation. He is a tall man wearing a gray suit. As he is speaking, he puts a small salad plate in front of the director. It is full of colorful food, like cherry peppers, only smaller. As the man in the gray suit continues to speak, the director eats. When the director finishes eating, the man in the gray suit removes the plate.
Later, as the man in the gray suit continues to speak, he puts down another plate, this time of sliced pickles, in front of the director. Then one in front of me. Then the servers place one in front of everyone else in the hall. We all begin to eat. They are sweet pickles, like the bread and butter variety of which I am most fond.
As everyone eats, the man announces: "This is a sorting round!"
I suddenly realize this meeting is to determine who will be dismissed from the company. The room bursts into a rumble of excited exclamations and conversation. Then the man in gray says, "There is something that you should remember!"
I look over my shoulder at him, then at the director, then back to him and say, "One of us has had one more course than the others." The director's eyes bulge a little and the man in gray smiles.
"Tell them," he says, nodding to the rest of the people, still abuzz. "Tell them," he says again, loudly enough to get their attention.
"One of us has had one more course than the others," I say again, loudly.
The room bursts into outrage. Someone shouts that it was someone in particular, not the director, but I don't catch the name. Several men stand up from their places around the table and bolt from the room through the doors behind the foot of the table. They are going to another building on campus.
I long ago learned that if I remember a dream, my sleeping self is trying to send my waking self a message. There is something I've discovered that I need to know.
I don't know what to make of this, except that there seems to be some kind of "moment of truth" coming -- probably in my job -- and I should be watching out for it.