Here is this morning’s short dream.  Here Pilate is a term for unwillingness to take responsibility and only going through the motions

The scene opens with the wife and I visiting a large upmarket store. I am carrying a swish food processor / mixer which we have recently bought. It is not working properly and does not do a good job of blending food. We go to the appropriate department and explain that we would like it fixed, or an alternative model or a refund. It is not our fault that this mixer is not working.

The person behind the desk takes it off us and takes some contact details. He is being officious in French and I can see that he is a reluctant “job’s worth” character.  Instead of wanting to help and please the customer he exudes “put upon” and “do I have to” almost sulking. Moreover he is arrogant towards us because we are “English”. I explain to him that I am very unhappy with the mixer and that they need to sort this out, quick-time. He gets increasingly surly and promises that someone will get in touch with us. From his manner I can tell that this is unlikely. He just wants us away from his desk, out of sight and out of mind. I will not hold my breath.

We go downstairs in the shop and find a cafeteria. We join the line, order and pay for coffees and sit at a table. Suddenly the ‘phone rings and it is someone in the electronic goods department saying that they have “fixed” the mixer. We finish our coffees and head back.

Several people are there around what was our mixer base but with a smaller volume mixing jug. They claim it now works. In a mixture of French and English I explain that the reason that we bought the bigger jug was for the larger volume. We already have a stick mixer for small volumes.

They are upset because they have not instantaneously solved the problem. One of the young Frenchmen puts a blender jug, which I know to be ours, on the mixer base. He claims that it is one from the stores. He loads it with some food including sweet corn. He turns it on and it appears to work. I know it is just rotating the mixture and only part liquifying it. He says, “look it is working”. I say to him that he had better pour the results out into a bowl. This he does. It contains some liquid and mostly unmixed food including sweet corn kernels. I say to him that the mixer does not work. He is adamant that it does. I asks him if the contents look well mixed. He says no. I ask him if he thinks the mixer works. He says yes a bit. We are at an impasse. He just wants us out of his shop and is unable to offer any way forward. We stand there in an awkward silence in which he gets increasingly uncomfortable. His colleagues have disappeared. They do not want to solve the problem they want rid of us. They want to wash their hands of it.

The scene fades. I am left with the strong visual image of a carrier pigeon with a small white message tube tied with two thin white cords to its left leg. The pigeon is in good condition and athletic looking. It is a messenger pigeon.

The dream ends.