Vladimir and Me

 Yup, that Vladimir, Vladimir Putin.  President, prime minister, whatever; the infamous leader/dictator of Russia since 2012.

Vladimir and I had a pleasant conversation one evening in the hotel lobby where he was staying.  I was just sitting there, dressed in suit and tie, enjoying a bit of alone time.  Mr. P took a seat in the chair next to mine and introduced himself (as if I didn't know who he was the minute I saw him).  He spoke perfect English, only slightly accented.

He asked me where I grew up (northern Minnesota), and commented that he, too, was raised where the winters were bitterly cold (St Petersburg).  The conversation continued for several more minutes, just a couple of guys getting to know each other.

And then, I went on to the next dream, which had nothing whatsoever to do with Vladimir.  

Dreams are our subconscious minds, hard at work, dumping the daily trash or performing other functions, which nobody really understands.  Vladimir probably deserves to be in the trash but I have no idea how he got into my trash.  He was a spy in the KGB before rising to power, and spies are very clever.  That may explain it.