I think the answer to the following question will most likely be "No", but have you ever dreamed about Mr. Bean?
Didn't think so, either... neither did I, for that matter.
But last night after reading a very well written piece from one of my closest friends about misunderstanding someone... I did.
Well, not really ABOUT Mr. Bean as in me being a third party.
No, I dreamed I was Mr. Bean myself.
Not Rowan Atkinson the actor... but the clumsy character he's playing... you know, the oddball and eternal loner.

I'll even set the scene for you.
I was Mr. Bean, at work, with all the colleagues I directly work with looking like they were stuck in the eighties, while the colleagues from sales were adapting rather well to the time.
I see them walking in sometimes with their iPads and flashy outfits, and every other beancounter (including myself) are wearing dusty jackets with patchy elbows, the female beancounters wearing thick glasses and curtains for dresses.
But, anyhow... it was my birthday and I brought a big apple pie.
I asked a few guys from Sales to join in so I could finally have a chance to discuss my love for new technology with them and hopefully be a bit more accepted by them... of course I would've enjoyed the company of the very good looking female Sales-workers as well.
But as I asked them - or tried to ask them: I could barely speak a word when I tried to ask a female Sales-worker - they all said "Sorry, can't."
As for the mumbling and stuttering with the girl... she was wearing a see-through negligee with only a small thong underneath.
She chuckled at me going all red, stuttering and mumbling and asked: "were you going to invite me for your Birthday party in the hallway?"
I violently nodded my head, not being able to resist the gravity that pulled my gaze towards her gorgeous breasts.
She walked up to me, almost touching me with those lovely gifts from God, and whispered in my ear:"Sorry, I can't... It's our annual 'come-to-work-in-your-sleeping-attire' party."
Damn, how I envied the sales blokes even more.
She walked off and as she was about to close the door I caught a glimpse of the Sales Office.... bare breasted girls were bouncing up and down and dancing with each other and their male colleagues...

I hated my birthday already.

I reluctantly went to the bean-counter office next door and as expected the only reaction I got was a silent stare when I entered the room and explained me being late: I had a pie to get for them.
As the silence grew uncomfortable I muttered: "For it's my birthday"
A soft monotonous "Congrats" left their mouths all at once and they started tapping away on their calculators and writing the numbers down at the same time.
It was as if I was looking at a Borg collective, or something...
I sat down at my desk, but I couldn't get myself to work: that party next door was a real distraction for me.
Somehow I must've blanked out, because next thing I knew the bean-counter closest by tapped me on the shoulder and said: "Come, coffee-break".
I stood up and we went to the hallway for our coffee-break.
We sat across the Sales office and each of my colleagues were silently eating the apple pie.
"H-H-How's the pie?" I asked timidly, trying to get my mind off those who were actually having fun.
Steven replied: "It's good".
-"How good?" Martha asked.
"Dunno, you can't really measure pie! Heh heh heh *snort* heh heh *cough* heh *snort* heh heh *snort*"
I smiled a bit.... took me about a month to figure out that that was his laughter... I always found that it sounded like the bloke was having a seizure or something.

Another reason why I felt left out just passed: I never understood the humor of their Math jokes.
He even tried to explain it to me by saying Pi is an unmeasurable number and he was eating pie...
I waved it off... I understood it, it just wasn't that damn funny.
Martha sat down next to me and asked me what was on my mind.
I honestly replied I felt sad that Sales couldn't join in for the pie.
She laughed:"Let those filthy whores and criminals have their Sodom and Gomorrah party... here's where the real fun is. We, God-loving men and women will be by His side as those floozies and pimps are cast down to Hell."
She rambled on, but I stopped listening, As an atheist, that preach missed me by a mile because I've drifted off in my thoughts.

And again I felt I didn't belong.
Not here, not in the room next to ours.

I always had a thing for math, I always had a passion for IT... as a Systems Administrator you have to.
Even in school I was being taught to get results and keep your nose down in the books, because whenever you look up, you're behind on the rest.
But I also had a strong feeling for living the life I WANTED to live, not a life I SHOULD live.
But there I was... in a dusty old jacket with patchy elbows, because whenever I entered the room with a brightly colored shirt on the bean-counters put up their sunglasses.
As I was already being an outcast for the hip people, I decided to take my losses and tried to fit in somewhere... anywhere... as long as I fitted in.

I cursed myself for being so Neutral.
I wanted my life to combine both aspects... a little seriousness for work, but the good looks and good talk of a Salesman for leisure.
Both of the latter faded away with every month I spent with the bean-counters.
My desk is set up in their Office because an office of my own would mean me being in the server-room all day, and I can tell you: The sound of 300 fans going "Whizzzzz" will drive you insane.

Even in school I was neutral... or an 'in betweener'.
I excelled at both math/science and sports.
So I've always been torn between the Nerds and the Jocks.
I wasn't as shallow as a Jock, but wasn't as scrawny as a Nerd either.
What was I? A good looking Nerd, a smart Jock.
Never knew, and I still don't.

I was startled out of my daydream (wow, dream inside a dream...) by Steven.
He sat down when Martha left, nagging about me not listening to her, so he told me.
He put his hand on my shoulder and asked me:"Bean, what are you REALLY thinking about?"
I smirked and immediately replied:"How awkward it would be for me to be at that party of theirs since I sleep in the ****..."
His hand withdrew from my shoulder nearly at the speed of light and while I was waiting for the sonic boom his look of comfort turned into a look of horror.
I knew I was gonna clean out my desk and set it up in the server room within the next few hours, so I added: "Probably for the best too, the blokes would get jealous of my equipment."
He left in a hurry... no sense of humor, those beancounters.
But again I was alone.
Misunderstood by both sides, not fitting in anywhere.
Hundreds to talk to, none that would understand anything I say.

It's just me, Myself and I.

That's when I woke up...