Category Archives: I dreamed a dream

I Dreamed a Dream

All servers have them: those horrible dreams where you are the only waiter in a giant restaurant. Your station goes as far as the eye can see and there is a revolving door of customers pouring into the restaurant who all need to order right away. It’s like one of those awful fever-induced dreams where nothing makes sense and you wake up in a pool of cold sweat. Jolted from your dream, you find yourself sitting upright in your bed and then when you lay back down again, your sheets are damp with perspiration. I hate those waiter dreams. I have been told by former servers that they still have them even though they haven’t waited tables in decades. Does this mean that I can look forward to those dreams for the rest of my life? Probably.

I had a server dream last night, but it was little bit different than usual. In it, I was not at work as the sole waitron. I was simply eating dinner in a warm pub-like restaurant with some friends. When I got up to go to the bathroom, someone at a table motioned for me to come to them. I was wearing all black, so I must have looked like a waiter. They asked me for something and rather than tell them I didn’t work there, I just went to get it. The dream is slipping back into my subconscious so I don’t remember what it was. I think it was like they wanted water and since I could see a pitcher nearby, I just got it for them. No biggie. When I returned from the bathroom, another table told me they were ready to order. Again, I just went with it and asked them what they wanted. “Can I get a medium plain pizza with a small salad?” they asked me. I told them it was no problem and went to find someone who worked there to pass it on. I went up to a waitress and asked who had the second booth. “Tina,” she said and pointed towards a girl on the other side of the restaurant. I went to Tina and told her that table two had ordered and she thanked me and put the order into the computer. I went back to my table and continued my meal.

So what the fuck? So now even in my dreams I can’t enjoy going out to dinner? Isn’t it enough that when I go out to eat I constantly have to observe the servers and watch the interactions with their co-workers? I scan the sidestation to see how it’s organized. I watch the hostess to make sure the seating rotation is even. I can’t just sit back and be a customer and I hate it. And now even in my dreams I am unable to sit at a table and let someone serve me. I have to get up and take some fucking orders? If this is what the future of my dreams are, I’d rather not have anymore, thank you.

I had a dream. I dreamed it for you, baby. And it wasn’t that I would take Tina’s goddamn pizza order.

I dreamed a dream of time gone by. And it was of a time when my dreams were about good things and not working in a fucking restaurant.

I dreamed the impossible dream. And it was of me having a life that did not revolve around burger temperatures.

Once upon a dream. And then I woke up in a puddle of sad and salty sweat and tears.

Why can’t I just dream of Jeannie?

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Dream Dream Dream


All of us servers have had that dreaded dream where we are the only person on the floor and the restaurant is humongous and the customers won’t stop coming in. And then you wake up and realize it was only a dream but then as soon as you fall asleep again you are right back where you left off with a hundred tables all flagging you down to place an order. Those dreams suck and it pisses me off that in my own personal sleepy time, my job interferes. I had one last night. I had a dream. A dream about you, baby.

It wasn’t the usual restaurant dream. This time I was serving in a private home. It was for four women who seemed like the type who would have written this shit. I was in this house taking their orders as they sat in their eat-in kitchen. I don’t know which women owned the home but it was not a pretty home. It looked like those houses that show up on House Hunters on HGTV that are $129,000 in Podunk, Texas. One of those episodes where they have three houses to choose from but they all look exactly the same; vaulted popcorn ceilings, oak cabinets and wallpaper borders. And the women always fall in love with the kitchen as long as it has fucking granite counter tops. Never mind the avocado green appliances; as long as it has granite counter tops, they love it. (Another annoying thing about that show is when the boring ass couples look at the closet in the bedroom and the wife always says, “well there’s enough room for my clothes. I don’t know about you, honey. Ha ha ha…”) Anyhoo, back to my dream. I had to take their order and then I was supposed to take a bus to the kitchen and the bus only came every half hour. So as one lady is trying to decide what she wants, I see the bus coming down the street and I know that if I don’t get on it, I will have to wait thirty minutes before I can place the order with the kitchen. She is hemming and hawing and I am watching the bus out of the corner of my eye pulling up in the front yard. As the bus pulled away, the lady finally decided she wanted a salad but it was too late. I missed the bus and couldn’t ring in the check. So I was stuck in the house with them while waiting for the next bus and the whole time they were bitching that their food was taking so long. Even though they knew I had missed the bus and wasn’t able to place their orders.

I don’t really remember the rest of the dream. And I certainly don’t know what it meant. Can anyone tell me there is no doubt what your dreams are all about? I woke up grumpy because not only had I dreamed about waiting tables, my brain had created this ugly ass house that I was working in. How could my tasteful mind design this horribly ugly home? I was disappointed in myself. My life has killed the dream I dreamed.

Bonus points to anyone who can identify the three musical theater references in this post. The prize? My undying respect.

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