steepholm (steepholm) wrote,

Steepholm's Dream Diary: 18

A very venal dream. I am a newly-elected MP, and as I find my way around the palace of Westminster I am advised by an old lag that the food at one particular canteen is excellent, and cheap if you can prove you're a Member. I accordingly go there, and buy a sandwich and a cup of coffee. "That'll be £11.45, dear," says the woman serving. "Unless you have your House of Commons membership card, of course?" I check my pockets, but can't seem to find it. "Hang on," I tell her. "I'll be back in a minute." "That'll be fine, dear," she says imperturbably.

I rush back to my office (uncannily like the bedroom/office where I am writing this), and search the drawers of my desk. I go through my pockets for a second time, and a third. At last I think to look in my credit card holder, and there it is. A little plastic picture of me, and the words "Steepholm, MP". Aha, I say to myself, now I can have some lunch!
Tags: what does it all mean?
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