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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