I am older, maybe late forties or early fifties. I audition for a part in a play. The teacher, a woman older than me, doesn't approve of me. I don't get the part. I then go into the cafeteria of a school. I am wearing a bright red suit, and my hair is carefully done via beauty parlor (blue). I am given the silent treatment because I'm different. I feel confident and self-righteous. I know I'm doing the right thing and I smile to myself. I can handle this.