"I'm sorry," you say, "but I was just reaching for that coin to make my own call when you reached up and..."
The man interrupts you. "Are you important?" he asks. "No," he answers for you, "you're not. I am. You're not."
"I'm not important?" you confirm.
"Not even a little," he tells you.
"Oh, dear," you say, suddenly feeling like a burden to the planet itself. The dream fades into wakefulness with that same sense of impending mediocrity.