Mostly harmless skin epidemic at band practice

Dave, Vanessa, and I went to Lou B's place, but instead of it being a townhouse, it was a penthouse apartment in a tall building. The four of us started playing "Flirting With Disaster" or something similar to it. I decided it would be a fun opportunity to experiment with my bass line a little bit. By the fifth or sixth measure, however, Lou was troubled by something and stopped us playing. He said he needed to get another person over to sit and listen, because right now we were missing a "top control" (i.e. someone to supervise and make judgement calls on the song performance).

I noticed that Dave had a blotch on his skin that reminded me of something I had noticed on my dad recently. I asked him about it and he said he wasn't sure what it was. He pointed out that I had something similar. I looked at the top of my right wrist, and indeed, I had a huge blotch, shaped somewhat like a simplified rendition of a neuron, and almost the size of my entire hand. Near the middle was a scab, which I had also seen on Dave's blotch. It turned out that Vanessa had similar blotches too. I speculated that there was something going round, and guessed that if everyone was getting it, it probably wasn't a big deal.

Lou, meanwhile, was commenting how the door to the roof (straight out to the roof, no stairs up, since apparently, the roof was the same floor as this apartment) used to be a window until he had it changed.

Then, for some reason, I went down to street level and was trying to call a plumber to go look at Lou's apartment. I saw a plumbing van parked across the street and called the number on it. They asked for the address and I gave them the building's street number, but trailed off trying to remember the suite number. They said they were busy but they forwarded me to a different plumbing company so they could take the job.

Spies need SIM cards

I was in an inner courtyard of a school/academy at dusk (drab architecture, all beige and gray and bricky, different terraced levels), spying on some guy. I was getting ready to report back to my chief when I remembered that I needed to steal a SIM card for my cell phone first. I went inside and found an open dorm room and grabbed the SIM card out of their modem.

Later, I ran into another guy I knew (probably another secret agent) and two of our friends, and we went to another dorm room so he could get a SIM card too. The dorm room's door was wide open and nobody was there, so we made ourselves at home, lounging on the bed/floor. He got his SIM card from the computer's modem, then was using the computer to print out some multi-page document. While we were doing this, the girl whose dorm room it was came in (and she had a friend or two waiting outside too). My friend explained that he really had to get this document printed, it was an emergency. She acquiesced, and we got ready to leave. We mentioned to her, on the way out, in passing, that, if, you know, there was anything wrong with her computer, like, the IT people could probably help her out. (Because we stole her SIM card. Probably wouldn't get much Internet anymore.)

Running late for the concert; watching, playing...

Finishing up dinner at home with the family, I was getting ready to head out to a late show in the city where Frau Eva (Dave, Vanessa, and Ben) were playing. They were supposed to start around 9:30, but as music shows always start late, I was planning to leave just a little before 9:30. However, when I looked at my watch, it was 9:40 already before I had left. I decided to give Ben a call, but couldn't get through.

In a related dream, I was actually at their show, in a smallish dream venue that I think I've seen before (i.e. in other dreams). But weirdly, my point of view was mixed between watching the show and identifying with myself, who was also on stage, as part of the band, playing some stuff. Lou Black was playing too. I can't recall exactly what kind of tunes we played.

Murder mystery? Well, nobody died.

Possibly the opening to a murder mystery. In an old house in a semi-urban area (maybe like Utica) where several people are staying, a stocky middle-aged woman, who had been sharing a room with another woman, had been having a conversation with the other woman, and then they got ready for bed. Then the phone rang downstairs and the middle-aged woman went down to answer it. I (during this phone conversation I was more or less a "fly on the wall") hear her receiving news about some kind of diamonds she will be receiving, worth a lot of money.

Less than five seconds after hanging up the phone, she very suddenly collapses to the ground, unconscious or dead. I grab the phone and dial 911. The female operator asks for the phone number I'm calling from, but I don't know it. I start to fumble around near the phone to see if I can find it. The operator threatens to hang up when suddenly the middle-aged woman comes to. I wonder if she'd gotten any brain damage from whatever happened. I pull the phone away from my ear and ask her what the phone number is for this house. The operator, thinking I'm still talking to her, sasses me. Then I woke up.

Phone Pictionary

Sitting around a table with three or four other guys (seemed like the rest were in their 40’s or older), playing something to the effect of "Phone Pictionary". We were on a conference call to one or more people. Basically, we had picked out a term which the other party had to say to complete the round. We drew a picture, and then verbally described that picture to the people on the phone. The example that I remember was that I had drawn, with pencil on white paper, two hats -- one tall, dome-shaped, with a narrow circular brim, somewhat resembling a tan denim bobby hat; the other of a similar overall shape but shorter and squatter, apparently a women's hat. The two hats were nestled up to each other, both facing forward towards the viewer, and the front brim of each one had been folded downwards. The correct term, which the other party eventually came up with, was "confide".