I walked over to our neighborhood launderette to see if I had left a laundered shirt there despite knowing I had picked up all seven of my shirts the day before.
I walked to the back to see if someone could help me and as I looked around the corner I saw the owner talking to an older man wearing a white lab coat and even more surprising, he had a long white beard and black Fedora upon his head, confirming for me that the man was an orthodox Jewish rabbi.
The owner saw me and sent his wife over to help me and as we could barely communicate, I used hand gestures and broken Dutch trying in vain to tell her I thought I may have left a shirt behind the day before.
She didn't understand me and handed me a pink candy bead-filled lollypop with a bow around the stick that she took from a plastic box on a shelf.
I took the lolly and thanked her and then she gestured for me to wait and returned to the back room returning seconds later with a huge bouquet of colored helium balloons.
I then realized she must have thought I was looking for party favor samples as she must have thought I was planning a children's party.
I shook my head no, and she returned the balloons to the back room.
Just then, the old man with the Fedora walked my way dialing his cellphone.
I said "boker tov," and he looked up pleasantly surprised to hear someone pronouncing a good morning greeting in Hebrew, especially in this part of the Netherlands where not many Jews live.
He said hello and I replied with two more Hebrew phrases: "Chag Sameach" (though the Purim festival had ended days earlier," then, in Yiddish, I said "Zay Gezunt," go in good health, to which he waved as the person he had called had answered the phone.
As I was walking home I passed by a hair salon owned by the same two men who owned the salon where my barbershop was located.
I looked in the window surprised to see the salon had been completely renovated and re-decorated so I went inside to have a look around.
Just as I was walking in, I saw the same Jewish man from the launderette walking around and talking to both the hairdressers and customers who were waiting on lavish sofas drinking coffee, wine and cocktails.
Then I saw Stephanie, who worked at the salon where my barbershop was located and I waved her over. Surprised to see me I asked her who that man was and what was he doing there.
She said he was a rabbi from Amsterdam who came by to say hello and see if he could be of any help.
I was shocked by her answer. He just came by to say hi? How strange I thought to myself.
Noticing that the salon was very busy I said goodbye to Stephanie and walked out.
I crossed the thoroughfare and looked back at the salon thinking how strange it was to see that rabbi twice in one day and in very odd places doing very odd things.
Just then I saw the rabbi of the synagogue I attend laying on the sidewalk doing leg lift exercises below an overhanging wall.
I walked over and laid down next to him on the sidewalk and told him about the rabbi I had run into twice that day, pointing over to the hair salon on the other side of the thoroughfare saying the rabbi was still inside.
My rabbi told me the man was just trying to be helpful that he no longer had his own synagogue and decided to travel from city to city to see how and where he might be of service.
Then I too began doing the leg lift exercises in unison with the rabbi.
Then I woke up
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