The Outed #dreamdiary 137

I’m sitting in the back room of a pub. The tables have been pushed into a square to give the impression that it’s a conference room. We’re trying to organise an event and I’ve formed a new team to take over the running of it. I’ve given them free reign of what can be achieved but there are some restrictions to protect the organisation’s budget. I’ve come to them with a new proposal of what we’d like to happen during the event. There’s some rustling of papers and whispering amongst a group of four people sitting together in the corner. After a consultation where there’s an element of confusion, I’m asked to leave the room for a moment. I approach the bar where there’s a limited choice of handpumps available. Instead, there’s a series of metallic words mounted on wooden plaques with a pipe at the end of the ‘S’ to dispense the beverage.