Sometimes, I just don’t understand my dreams. Not my goals, my dreams, my literal REM cycle. They are, occasionally, too weird. I’ll give you an example.
In my dream, I just got a new job working at a restaurant [keep in mind, I’ve never worked at a restaurant]. But not as a server. In fact, I don’t really know what my job was. I just kind of stood around and greeting people and talked to them for the first few days.
Well, one day, my boss asks me if I could help out and wait on a couple tables since one of our regular servers called in sick. So I agreed. Without the proper training.
This was nothing like diving head first into the shallow end.
I only had two tables. But only remember one. A single lady sitting outside. Just before the dinner rush.
She seemed nice at first (that’s the key phrase).
I took her order and gave it to the cook. Then I proceeded to talk to the second table [I assume. Though I might have just meandered around until her order was ready].
I got a call, either over the restaurant loudspeaker or through a walkie-talkie–not sure which, maybe both [it was a dream after all]–asking if anyone had an order waiting. Of course, it was my order for the lady.
I go to the kitchen. I have to plate the order myself. Not too difficult. Except that the wraps [fajitas?] were in a plastic bag (did the cook use bag dinners?) and I had to cut them out. Then I had to find a serving tray to carry the hot plate. Unfortunately, I had no idea where the trays were kept [apparently, I didn’t know where the dishes were washed].
Luckily, another server took pity on me. The cute daughter of my boss [at least, that’s the vibe I got from the dream].
Okay, so food on tray, tray in hand, I return to the lady. I apologize for the wait. Oops, skipped a step. Someone asked me if I was working table 97. I was. She asked me if I heard my buzzer go off. I stared at her. Apparently, I had a call. She held up a jacket. Apparently, we had uniforms…maybe they were just for the dinner rush… Inside the uniform’s pocket was a vibrating disk with flashing lights an a number on its face: 97.
Okay, so food on tray, tray in hand, I return to the lady. I apologize for the wait. She just asks for the bill and says she wants to leave.
I walk through the restaurant looking for the billing station. The cashiers work at two stations on a u-shaped counter. I wait until one’s free. She prints out the bill. The assistant manager greets me. He compliments me on how well I’m doing. He congratulates me on lasting a month and says I’ll be getting a raise. He explains that every month, we get a raise, if we perform well (where do I sign up?).
Back to the lady. It’s starting to get really windy [I think you can see where this is going]. I walk to her table and hand her the bill. Staying polite and respectful. She complains that I forgot the bill. I look down. No bill. I apologize and explain about the bill. It must have blown away when I transferred it to her hand. I search for it.
Sure enough, it’s blowing across the terrace. I pick it up and return it to her. I stand and wait for her method of payment. She harangues me (maybe that’s her payment?). Interestingly, I didn’t walk away, just stayed there.
Then I woke up. Not sure if she ever paid.
Like I said, sometimes I have really odd dreams. And I don’t mean wanting to go to the Olympics or trying to complete a Where’s Waldo book in its entirety. Again, those are goals. I’m still not sure what the dream meant, but I do know that someone probably has a Freudian or Jungian explanation. That person, however, isn’t me (clearly).
I will say this, I do have a new appreciation for those in the food service industry. All thanks to my
Inception lucid almost lucid dream.