no. it did not. it was a dream.
a fucking work dream.
being partially employed i spend just enough time at work to have it stalk and harass me while i'm unconscious.
in my dream i was taking the closing shift and instead of slowing down for the night the restaurant got steady business with the occasional large party until the sun had come up the next day.
we had run out of plates and glasses since the dish washer had gotten off at an appropriate time. they was no busser. we were running out of food and at some point my boss presented me with a hi-tech gizmo (for god knows what reason) that looked like a food processor, but when i turned it on it shot cheerio-sized copper rings into all the food i was just about to serve. tracy, my co-worker appeared and we started pulling these metal rings out of a large baking sheets worth of linguine pomodoro con cozze e vongole with our bare hands
i would try to tell people they couldn't sit and that we were done serving and they would tell me that they were hungry so i could go fuck off. they would order drinks that i had never heard of with ingredients i didn't have (or had just sold the last of)
there was a brief segue where i was trying to wash my hands in the bathroom at my elementary school but the sinks had been removed.
just as i was getting that overwhelming sense of failure. i woke up.
i either need a new job or a fucking vacation.
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