Lucid Dreaming, oh yeah

I was dreaming this morning, but I wasn't paying any attention. My alarm went off and I slapped the snooze, that being the entire reason for having it set so early, I like to con myself that I'm getting bonus sleep.
I slapped the snooze and went back to my dream, only I was awake enough to be curious what I was dreaming about.
I was dreaming about Pathways, a pagan supply store in St. Louis. More specifically, I was dreaming about two women working in Pathways. They were having a discussion about the prophecy that had been made about their store. The prophecy foretold of an Irish woman who would, if treated right, bring blessings to the store. This reminded the lucid part of my brain that I haven't been to Pathways since they moved to South County. I decided to go (dream) shopping there.
I put myself into the dream and entered the store. One of the women looked at my red hair, and I got great service. I was trying to think of an appropriate way of telling them that I wasn't who they hoped I was, without giving away that I'd over heard their conversation. Since I wasn't in the store while they were talking, admitting I knew about the prophecy would just convince them that I was who they hoped I was.
I saw a woman walking across the parking lot toward the store. She was short, round and old. She had a walking stick. She was dressed entirely in black, and her outfit was the most spectacular thing I'd ever seen. It had fringe and sparkly geegaws all over it. Everything was the kind of black that sucks in light, yet as the doodads swung in the wind they were almost iridescent. Can a thing be iridescent without reflecting light? In my dream it was.
I thought to myself, "There's your Irish woman," and went to the checkout. While being checked out, the lady behind the counter asked me, "Are you, by any chance... Irish?" I gave my usual, "Nope! I'm Welsh." Both women looked a little crestfallen and a little pissed that I'd fooled them. (No, I didn't fool them. They had fooled themselves.) To make them feel better I offered, "Well, I'm a teeny bit Irish, but no more than I am Native American." And then, before I could shut my mouth, I pointed at the woman in black, who was just reaching the door and said, "There's your prophecy." I got out of the store as quickly as I could. I'd made it to the truck when I remembered I hadn't bought any herbs. I always buy herbs when I go to Pathways. So I headed back to the store. Inside, the woman in black was raising a ruckus. Literally. She was squawking and flinging shit on the walls. She had deliberately messed herself and was actually flinging the stuff around. I went in and projected calmness so I could buy my herbs in peace. Both employees were behind the counter, clinging to each other and expressing outrage. The woman in black turned and looked at me, poo in hand; and I felt her think, "That's ok, I'll wait."
I bought my herbs, got out, and pondered what I'd seen. The second the door closed behind me, she was raising a ruckus again. Part of me wanted to help the employees of the store, part of me wanted to butt out and leave them to it.
The desire to help overcame wisdom, and I went back to the store. There was something about the woman in black. I knew I should recognise her, but I couldn't place her. The store was immaculate, except for the brown patties on the walls. The woman in black stumped up to me, using her walking stick to support most of her weight. Her hands were clean. She looked up at me with glittery dark eyes and said, "You're nothing." And I laughed. I knew that I was supposed to feel bad. I knew the women behind the counter were supposed to hear her judgement of me, and agree with it, and I was supposed to feel bad. But I didn't. I laughed and said, "I'm not here to be something!"
The woman in black said, "If you stop this, I'll make sure they remember."
I said, "And I'll make sure they forget." Thinking that, with time, I could go back to flying under the radar of the St. Louis Pagan community.
Then her familiarity clicked. I said, "I know you. You're Crow!"
She smiled, showing her old lady teeth, and turned into a beautiful black crow. She flew up to my fingers, rested there long enough to shit on my hand, and flew out through the (closed) door.
Then the alarm went off again and I got up.

What an unusual dream. The women at Pathways can handle anything that comes through their door. They don't need my help. I thought the whole thing was pretty funny.