Polly Jean’s sofa

(I dreamt this the night before the P.J. Harvey/John Parish concert, where I was at work (a brilliant concert by the way)).

Me and my brother are on our way to see P.J. Harvey and John Parish, for free, at the venue where I work. When we arrive, the guy at the door helps us through the crowd of fans waiting to get in. I smile all the way and feel proud and special. I feel taller than everyone else.

We enter the second floor. The stage that is usually there has been completely removed. I look around only to find that the whole place has been totally renewed and redecorated. I notice that a walkie talkie is strapped to my belt, like when I’m at work here, and in my earpiece one of my colleagues tell me that the capacity of the venue has been halved today due to a request by the artist. That’s why the whole place has been arranged differently; to make it look as if the place is packed with people.

Now I spot the sofa that’s been put where the stage used to be. Next to it is a small chair and a table. I tell my brother that we’re supposed to sit there, so we walk over and sit.

A woman is hanging upside-down from the roof, in some intricate wiring rig. It is Polly Jean Harvey. She’s doing some quite impressive acrobatic stunts, but from time to time the rig carries her along an erratic and uncontrolled path that seems to upset her like hell. I now discover that the whole rig is held by a thin wire extending from the tip of a blue crane that has been built into the wall. Somehow I know which one of the technicians is operating it, and I feel so embarrassed on his behalf.

While all of this is happening, P.J. Harvey still sing her songs as if nothing was wrong, and it’s perfect.

I meet the eyes of mr. Parish, who is sitting on a barstool a few feet away, wearing the face of Meat Loaf. He seems uneasy. He tries to tell me something, but I can’t hear him. He tiptoes across the stage, leans over to me and says: «I’d appreciate it if you did’nt put your feet in the sofa».

To my surprise, I discover that I have gigantic shoes on my equally gigantic feet, and that they are indeed placed on the pillows of the sofa. The whole thing makes me feel slightly embarrassed, and I wake up.