I had to check that this was not a regular Fwiffo post in Strange Things Seen Daily by MeI go into this restaurant with a suit and tie. It's an older restaurant that claims to be all about seafood - I reckon some Mediterranean country. Anyway, I come in and it's busy but one glance at the high top tables and the bar and it's all senior citizens. I think to myself my alumni events have a younger median age than this.
I navigate past rows of old women and go to the back half of the square bar (three serving sides) and find a spot when a row of Golden Girls like women leave with their fruity cocktails. I sit down and look for a bartender but they're all busy so a black waitress comes by with a Caribbean accent and says don't order from them, I'll take care of you. I ask for Crown Royal on the rocks and she disappears to get my drink. Now I think it's a mistake to give this woman tip and the cheque because the bartenders behind the bar are free again and have already served other customers. Finally she comes back and she gives me Crown Royal with one big rock in a frozen stein glass. I stare at the drink for a few seconds and the woman bartender, another black woman, starts laughing at me and offers to take the ice out with tongs so I can try to drink it.
At this point a hostess comes to ask me whether I want the table as it is now free. I go to the table and on my way past the hostess station bump into one of my lady friends. She's in a ravishing evening dress and we are both seated. I check whether she needs to go back to work afterwards and she says yes so we order white wine by the glass. As usual she needs to go to the washroom before I even order food, so I get up as she leaves the table (yes I'm old fashioned when it comes to dates). And as I'm staring at the menu and about to sit down, another lady friend rushes in with an equally ravishing dress and a pashmina and says, "Sorry I'm late! Oh you ordered wine for me already. Sit down and let's eat." As she fumbles to take off her pashmina and finds a place for her purse the other woman returns to the table and sees both of us - I'm still standing.
Sheepishly, I said in a higher pitched voice, "Can we get a table for three and eat together?"
The first woman leaves. The second woman puts her pashmina back on and takes her purse. She turns her cheek towards me and says, "Come on, give me a kiss before we both leave you."
And then I woke up.
This could take off. Thanks for the business idea!I had a dream the other night that I was at a dinner party and the host had prepared old masters and works of art to eat. They would cut a piece from a canvas and prepare it and you would digest the experience of the art work. Apparently all the rage in my dream world.
Your father said you were what? I always believe I'm not responsible enough to have children but even I stick to the adage that blood is thicker than water. My father always taught me to praise in public and criticize in private (private being parents and children, not even beyond that).Had a strange dream last night: there was some family party and my aunt and uncle blanked me. My cousin then came out and I went to kiss her three times on the cheek and she became angry as somehow I had messed with her make-up. I tried to explain that it was a Dutch thing, but to no avail.
In reality when my parents got divorced my aunt and uncle kind of went over to the darkside of the force. And when I contacted them after we had our first baby they blanked me and never replied to my email. What I found out last year was that my father bad mouthed me big time during the divorce and had said I had a mental illness and brought undue pressure on the marriage as I was a nutcase. This probably explains why I never get invited to any events on that side of the family.
I presume the dream is some subconcious commentary on this.
It helps in my old age I have sleep apnea during the REM stages where I'm most vividly dreaming. Nothing like the body gasping to wake up for air when your dream sequences are most intense.Your dreams are so well scripted. Mine are a jumble of dark bodings.
I don't think I ever had a sartorial dream.
My father was a narcissist and they're very spooky and strange people. They have to be bathed in admiration and constant attention. You as partner or offspring only exist to make them look good. When one of my aunt's on my mum's side started telling me last year, she stopped in mid-sentence realising it may not have been appropriate to tell me that my dad had been telling one I had a mental illness, but it didn't shock me. I realised it was in keeping with his mission to make himself look bigger and better than anyone else. I remember several times he had asked me to see a psychiatrist on account of my CD collection which he deemed was a sign of some affliction as he believed it was too large for anyone to listen to all the music. It was no more than a couple of hundred CD's if that. I laughed it off at the time, but now I realise he may have been saying that I was a lunatic much earlier than the divorce!Your father said you were what? I always believe I'm not responsible enough to have children but even I stick to the adage that blood is thicker than water. My father always taught me to praise in public and criticize in private (private being parents and children, not even beyond that).