When I’m asleep, my subconscious tends run wild and weave stories so bizarre that I can’t ignore them. I write them down so that here, in Last Night’s Dream, you can read them.
I’m sat on a balcony of a gloriously Greek villa, overlooking a sprawling sea that sparkles under a summer sun. It’s hot, I’m wearing a hat (for both shade and style purposes) and the glass table I’m sat at is hosting a delightful array of breakfast pastries.
The breakfast is exquisite, but that’s not the only reason I’m here. I’m a financial advisor, and accompanying the breakfast on the table is my MacBook and a significant amount of financial records belonging to the client I’m working with, waiting to be discussed and analysed.
I’m drumming my fingers on the glass surface of the table. “What’s keeping him so long?” I wonder, checking my watch. He’s been in the kitchen for over 30 minutes.
With that, my client Harrison Ford hurries out through the balcony doors, carrying a plate of scrambled eggs atop a toasted English muffin.
“I’m so sorry!” he says, putting down the plate with a clatter on the glass. “The first batch weren’t as yellow as you usually like them, so I re-did them for you.”
I settle his worries with a wave of my hand – he really is so silly about this sort of thing. As if I’d really mind about the shade of my scrambled eggs. This is so typical of my client Harrison Ford.
“So Harrison, here’s what we’re going to do. This account you’ve got here – it’s just not doing much for you. We need to invest it in something better, something that’s going to work hard for you and make your money go further. We’re going to invest it in Spotify, ok? Their shares are about to sky rocket, and you’ll be laughing all the way to the bank when they do.”
My client Harrison Ford looks at me, amazed by my idea as usual.
“I just… I just really don’t know what I’d do without you. I’m so lucky to have you as my financial advisor. My finances have never looked better. And are you still absolutely sure you won’t accept any other payment than just breakfast?”
“No Harrison,” I say with total sincerity, “I’ve told you already. I don’t do this for the money – I do it for the breakfast. Always have, always will.”