Stolen Restauranteur

2009-01-26 08:12 - Dreams

Last night, I had what I realize has become a recurring dream.

I'm in a little hole-in-the wall New York eatery. So small, it doesn't even have seating, just a window up front that you can order through, which doesn't align very well with its Italian cuisine orientation. It's the middle of the night, and it's not open. I never experience breaking in, but I always know that I didn't gain normal entry.

It's a strange sort of unlikely if not impossible place. The floor layout turns, into an L, towards the back. It's got three regular stoves like you might find in any home, two gas and one electric. I always get some pasta and boil it on the electric stove way in the back, not the gas stove right next to it. (Though in real life, I really prefer cooking with gas.) Invariably, it's not until the noodles are done that I remember to prepare some sauce. I get it out of the (normal consumer grade, no restaurant quality gear) fridge, next to the mentioned gas stove, and inexplicably carry it towards the front of the store, to heat it up. Then things start to diverge.

Usually at this point, the owner comes in; through stairs in the back like his apartment is a duplex to this shop below. I don't remember ever experiencing it, but at least once it seems that he came in and accosted me for breaking into his restaurant. Somehow it came out that he understood, and allowed me to return as I pleased. This time, another chef-of-the-night comes in uninvited. I think little to nothing of it. He doesn't know where things are very well, so I help him.

About when we're both done and sitting down to eat, the owner's wife comes in. She starts to yell and complain over the mess and damage done to a fourth stove, which I was not previously aware of, but is right next to the one I used for the sauce. I protest that I did not use that stove, so if something happened, the other guy did it.

That's about all I can remember of last night's episode.

Comments:

Interesting
2009-02-19 04:55 - Laimelde

Your dreams are as wierd as mine... though any dream of mine that recurs is usually a nightmare (trudging through a grassy field in a never-ending thick fog, anyone?)

But mine are just as odd as that, doing wierd things that seem normal, and knowing things that have happened before even though they haven't happened in either real or dream worlds..

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