I am in a some kind of McDonald place where it caters to kids. I am ordering some hamburgers and so on. There are toys there to buy as well. A girl is looking at a set of baby clothes all in the same soft orange color. I leaf through them as they are presented in a book like form. Now I see my parents. I notice that my mother is quite tall, nearly as tall as my father is, but they still look good together. I notice how regal she stands and looks. Then I notice she has a bald swath through her pretty hair. She is delightedly sniffing the bags of hamburgers and exclaiming how wonderful they smell. Somewhere, either earlier in this dream or perhaps another dream, is a short pudgy man with really bad hair, sort of fuzzy and tough and grows in spots. He shows me the back row of his hair how unkempt it grows and sighs because he likes me and feels his hair will turn me away from him. Now I or my father sees some notice or advertisement about a piece of real estate where people can go to fulfill their dreams, or act them out. I see a white plastic molded bench which sits three people, the middle one a bit more high and centered than the other two. Then I see three people sitting on the bench in ballet costumes. These people want to dance ballet. Then I see a fat older man who is a playwright. He is writing a play these people can dance. But he is stuck and can't figure out what to write. He is lying in a recliner chair which is laid back on its back on the floor and he is seated in the chair, also lying on the floor. He is devastated because he is so stuck and can't come up with anything creative. Maybe he never had talent in the first place. He then goes to a body of water and purchases used pills to kill himself with. I wonder what "used" pills means and reassure myself it means not used and then too old and weak, not that people swallowed them already once. He takes a bunch of the pills but doesn't die because they had lost all their potency. But he plods on, determined to figure out how to write this play. Then an idea comes to him; he could use dreams. They could do dance movements like dream scenes come to him -- energy, surprise, beauty. So he writes it and I hear the male lead dancing it. The dance area is ringed with old apartments where two or three stubborn old men have refused to move out and they insist on living there so close to the dance area that their normal living movements are distracting to the audience of the dance. So I hear the one old man asking the lead dancer as he is doing his wonderful leaps and so on, does he know a word he needs for this crossword. The dancer keeps hissing at him through his clenched teeth, "I am dancing here!" But the old man ignores that and keeps asking his question.