My apologies, I haven't even read through this, I just typed it as fast as I could.. it will be fixed later. Careful, it's weird.
Some dreams touch upon aspects of reality and twist them.
This one occurred twice
in a row.
Exhausted after several days running on virtually no sleep I took advantage of my afternoon of and settled down for a quick nap that ended up lasting longer than I had planned.
There I was, my conscience was in my own body as I got dressed for work. In a flash I was walking in the door of the brand new Don Pablo's in downtown Indianapolis. I walked in and recognized the faces of those I worked with but didn't really speak. This place was all new to me and my mind was too focused on how everything had changed. I distinctly remember thinking as I walked around, I bet Mike (my manager) would give anything to have this place back the way it used to be. I felt a wave of emotion roll over me as memories of the fun DP's washed through my mind. Before I knew it the hostess was telling me I had a table. Oh dear, I hadn't even checked which section I was in. I guess this new place was a lot stricter on keeping waitresses busy at all times, because my section was huge. It was about ten tables on a glassed in patio and probably another six booths along the inside wall. I saw my table and walked back to begin my normal routine. For some reason, these people had already decided they didn't like me. I felt like crawling inside myself, because I guess that's some inner fear of mine. I don't like to be shut off or closed out until I feel I deserve that. I am nervous as I take the order, entirely self-conscious and feeling insufficient. I feel like time is flying by as I walk back to the kitchen. When I finally get there I can't find anything. Finally, I ask Kelly where the chip hopper is and she silently walks to a long booth table. Underneath she pulls on a handle that causes a ginormous chip bin to expose itself. I look into it and see only crumbs in the corner. No chips. Frustrated I go to find them.. and I don't know where they are. Mike, my favorite manager, approaches me and I can sense that something is wrong because the way he does it is so awkward. He tells me I have two more tables. I tell him okay but he reads my flustered face and tells me he'll have someone else take the one on the inside wall. I don't know where my first table went, but I never bring them anything. In my mind I block them out. I walk up to the second table excited. There is an African American mother, father, and two kids. These people are friendly but in a hurry. I take their drink order and then realize that I've only set salsa out on their table. I tell them I'll be back with chips and drinks as soon as I can and the little boy decides to change his drink order. When he does this I can't understand what he wants, but different members of the family repeat it to me like this is common knowledge. I write down what I think the word is and walk away hoping I can figure it out. I go through a swinging door to the kitchen and I miss the Mexicans I used to talk to. I don't know these cooks. I ask someone about the mystery drink the little boy ordered and the person directs me to the drink stand. On the wall there is a rack with cups already under the drink spouts. The labels are all different. I had to get two lemonades and then a Meijer drink and a water. The water tab that can usually be found on the edge of one of the spouts has multiplied and is featured on every one. There are no little trays but I grab a large one and set the drinks on it. One of the cups looks like it tips. I set the tray down and go to grab the cup as it sits there with an extreme lean. As I grab it I feel the cup shift in my hands and now it leans right. I read the label on the cup and its an advertisement. The cup is called the side splitter, and it was specially designed with this feature. I am confused, but I pick up my tray again and go to my table. Setting down the drinks I tell the lady to be careful of the cup and she acts like she knew what it was already. I soon realize that the table has gotten longer and there are more people. I quickly remember that I forgot the chips and as I remember this the father reminds me that he ordered a new dessert that he needs in a hurry. At this point I'm holding onto the frame of the door that transitions from indoors to the patio and I'm ready to sprint to the kitchen to get the food but I wait until the man completes his sentence. I've never heard of this dessert he ordered and I dont even know where the computer system is. I wish I could go back to where I could just shout the order and Alfonso would get it for me with a "anything for you pretty lady." This wasn't the case. After a short while I can't handle it anymore. I feel like I have failed and I am drowning in tasks. I swing open a door leading further back into the restaurant, walk through a restricted area, and continue out the door. I don't know what time it is, but I leave work and head home. I live in a large and gorgeous white building that's a dorm. In my room I think to myself.. oh my gosh I just left work. I feel like I'm going crazy, I don't know what to do. I can't undo what has been done. I realize I am sympathetic to the situation I left Mike in back at the restaurant. I look out the window to see that I am being parked in in a long row of cars. Diane comes down the hall, she's happy. I immediately take on her mood and walk down the hall with her. She gets excited and asks me to come with her. To where, I'm not sure.. but I go. We walk down sets of bleach white stairs encased in bright white walls. As we make the turns down each set of stairs Diane tells me something that widens my smile. She says, "People are changing...people are changing in looks.. yesterday you looked really pretty." Instinctively I oppose her and she shushes me before I can say anything. She then continues to speak to me as we pass an office. As we pass I flash back to a memory I have of Di sitting on a desk in this office and I know that in that moment I was thinking.. wow, if she only knew she's gorgeous. Diane snaps me back out of this memory and suddenly I find myself explaining what happened earlier to her. She doesn't question me, she just takes me to her scooter. We get on together riding side to side and heading downtown. The whole time I think I'm going to fall off or a cop is going to pull us over, but no such thing. Di drops me behind Dp's and walk into the door leading to the restricted area. I walk in and there are a bunch of people in the back room observing the kitchen through a glass window. My co-workers are talking on one side of the room and some elderly people are in the second. An old woman is trying to find out what the food is that she always orders. She describes it and I go up to her and I say, "Order a hot set for 1.99 and you can sub in two sides of the papas tejanes." She gets so excited by this that she kisses my cheek. A line of elderly people follow her in this cheek-kissing thing and then I wipe my cheek with my hand like it's a natural reflex. Thinking about it I feel bad, but my attention is no longer in the room it narrows in on an object located on the shelf. I walk to the little display box where a tiny figurine sits. The figurine reads: Bryana era joven (Bryana was young). I pick up the figurine in my hand and my head spins. I see my dad walk through the door and my heart aches as I realize how much respect and love I hold for him. Somehow I know that he is a manager of this Don Pablos and I go to him to tell my story. He just looks at me and remains silent. Loosely gripping the figurine I stand there and let it roll out of my hand.
