The Naked Orpheus

I dreamed that I was directing a bizarre Orfeo that was part spoken dialogue, part dance, part singing. It was in a sort of church hall or something - not an opera house. The dress rehearsal was starting. I was called out to look at the dancers' costumes which were orange and green. They asked me if they should perform nude, since Orfeo was doing so. I was surprised. 

Looking to my left, I saw the Orfeo singer who happened to be Damian Whiteley, only he was very elongated, like an alien, and he was nude, but to my surprise had no penis. I was trying to figure out whether this was actually nudity or an extremely convincing body suit, when I was asked to mediate a dispute on the pavement outside the hall.

There, some souvenirs were being sold, but it looks like they're being sold out of the back of a van. They are piled up against the side of the brick hall. A lady in furs is being very demanding, and only speaks German.

There is a shelf piled with little toys - it looks very incomplete. She wants to be the whole thing, toys and all. "Das Ganze?" I ask her. She nods impatiently. I try to reach my sister Pinky on the phone as she appears to own the sales concession.

Finally I get her and she says (in Thai) that they cost her 100 baht so she wants 300. I say this but the buyer seems insulted that they are so cheap. I try to formulate the sentence "we aren't a shop that cheats tourists" but I get stuck ... I say "Wir sind kein Geschäft ... (then I struggle to remember the gender of Geschäft, which I then get wrong) DER Turisten .... (and then I can't remember the word for "cheat"). I am standing there trying to figure out how to finish the sentence. 

I wake up.