In my dream, I and a friend or two (from elementary school through high school) are on the roof of a skyscraper. Looking across the city, we see two buildings that look like the World Trade Center towers, though one is quite a bit taller than the other. We are higher than the top of the shorter one, and can see an oil derrick on the roof. My friend explains to some girl who's there that it is used to pump water to the higher floors.
For some reason, it seems that we cannot get off of the roof. My friend finds some big pieces of cardboard and starts experimenting to see whether we can use them like parachutes to float down to the ground. I try using them like glider wings, and explain that we'll be able to land more softly that way than by simply dropping straight down. I am skeptical that they would slow us enough for it to be safe the other way.
After a few tries, I get a piece of cardboard that seems big enough that with a bit of a run, it helps me glide farther than I would have been able to simply jump. One jump and glide takes me perhaps 8-10 feet from the edge, and I decide to take more care not to go over the edge till I'm sure it will work.
While I am doing this, some woman (who I recognized but don't remember--probably from church) comes up to me and hands me something, asking me to give it to my wife for her. I look at it and see that it is some sort of make-up. Through the clear lid, it appears to have water on it, and I am concerned that it might spill if I hold it while trying to glide. I open the lid, and discover that it doesn't have water on it, and that it has a fairly strong aroma.
At this point, another friend from my elementary school days shows up. I show him the gift and say, "for the wife". I wonder whether it bothers him for me to be mentioning my wife since he is unmarried (in reality, I have no idea whether he's married--he probably is).
After that, I make a few more attempts to demonstrate and test the gliding ability of the cardboard, and find that I need seven running steps to get up to speed for a really good jump. There's a line on the roof that I'm using as a jumping point to help measure gliding distance. My father, who is now on the roof (more people keep showing up all the time), has been piling things up at one end, and soon I point out that I need seven steps, but only have room for two at best with all the piles of things.
At this point, I switch from trying to glide to doing standing long jumps (eventually, I barely have room for that by my jumping line). I theorize that I am able to jump as far as I do because I'm fairly light weight, but have strong legs, and because just as I leave the ground, I make a final push with my toes that gives me the extra distance. I make a few jumps, some good, some less good (falling backward on the landing because of trying to stretch my feet out too far in front of me, etc.) I do a few arm-swinging knee bends in preparation to jump, and as I jump, I can distinctly feel the final push with my toes.