Dream Log Archive

Tag: Location: Hotel

  • October 30, 2024

    (hotel reception / disaster ethics / bianca’s escape plan)

    I’m in an open, windowed hotel reception area. Long tables covered in white sheets are set up with food and drinks, and people stand around talking in small groups.

    I’m standing with a female friend of mine, though I can’t remember who it is, and Bianca Del Rio.

    We’re talking about what would happen if there were suddenly a terrorist threat in the room. My friend suggests that the most generous thing would be to try to get everyone out.

    Bianca says she wouldn’t bother trying to save everyone. It would be a fraught situation, there wouldn’t be time, and people would panic. Instead, she says she would just dive for the window and maybe grab the two of us along with her, since we’re already nearby.

    We roll our eyes and thank her jokingly, but privately I think that’s rather generous of her, considering she could just save herself.

  • April 15, 2020

    (hotel inspection / unsettling discovery / casual conclusion)

    I’m in a fancy hotel with a group. My boss mentions that we’ve received a request for my dad to give a lecture. The location is supposed to be at a hospital room, next to a golf course. Everything—the room and arrangements—would be covered as reimbursements, and I’m sent to check out the room prepared for him to stay in.

    The room doesn’t match the pictures. It looks grimy. The closet, bed, and drawers still have a few things left in them, like it hasn’t been properly cleared out.

    I check the bathroom and realize the blueprint is wrong. Instead of a standard setup, there’s a large shared shower room with multiple shower heads, some still running. The bathtub, which was supposed to be a single unit, is actually an enormous one—about eighteen feet long.

    It becomes clear to me that the space isn’t meant for normal use, but something more private and unusual. I feel unsettled, imagining weird sex parties.

    As we head outside to a meeting, I ask my boss about it discreetly. He implies that the person who made the request used to court him, and that his interests have shifted over time towards lingerie. I briefly consider asking him for store recommendations related to that, but we arrive at the meeting building and drop the subject.

    We’re a bit early, so we’re told to get drinks at a juice shop inside. We end up getting frozen lemonades and other fruity drinks.

  • April 13, 2020

    (cafe search / imagined intimacy / hotel meetup)

    I’m living in Tokyo, or somewhere like it, and heading into the city to meet friends to play a game at a tea shop. Last time, we had to search around because the first few places wouldn’t let us stay for a long time.

    I consider going back to the first place, but it wasn’t ideal, so I keep looking. I pass a high-end grocery store and go inside. They have a lot of ice cream cookie sandwiches, but I realize I can’t buy them if I’m going to leave them sitting in a café for hours. I check the store hours—it closes at 23:30—so I think I could come back later before heading home.

    I check another café, but they don’t allow eating inside. I start thinking the first place might be the best option after all.

    Then I pass another place—bright and sunny, with a bar along one wall and full window panes at the back with tables. It looks promising, so I decide to ask if they’ll let us stay and play games there.

    Later, I’m in a hotel for some kind of conference or convention. I’m in bed, about to sleep, when I imagine a scene that feels very real, like it’s happening right next to me. There are two people, one slimmer and one larger, with the larger one having a metal left arm.

    I shift perspective and become the slimmer person. There’s a sense of teasing and anticipation, and I follow along, unsure but responsive, waiting for direction and reacting to what the other person does.

    Then I get distracted by something outside the window. The window opens into the middle of the hotel, where there’s a large internal walkway system and you can see the banisters of all the floors.

    I think I see HS Friend M on a lower floor, just below my balcony. I go to check and confirm it’s her. She’s with other HS friends (group of four), gathering in a room below.

    I call down with cupped hands to ask the room number—5360, on the fifth floor. I rush to grab my things—my phone (which I think isn’t charged, but it is), my glasses, my room key, and slippers, though I can only find one.

    I feel like I have something important the next day, but I can’t resist going to see them, even if it means staying up all night.