Vacation Dining with Reservation Miscommunication

The family was on vacation. We had been doing all sorts of fun things that I don’t quite remember… but the last part of the dream I remember very vividly.

The kids were younger, so probably around 2016 or so. We were coming from an activity and going to a restaurant, walking down a sidewalk next to green grass on the left side, and buildings on the other. …walking through a park of some sort? It was very sunny, and the weather was perfect. Not a cloud in the sky. People were milling about, but it was not crowded. I remember concrete steps and a black metal railing on the building side.

After climbing the stairs, we entered the second story of one of the buildings on the right. I guess I went to the bathroom and the family was seated, because next thing I knew, I was coming down interior stairs from the entrance above to get to our table. The restaurant seemed to be a brewery-loft-type place, with brick walls, wood floors, and more metal railings.

I was almost down the stairs, and I saw Dad at a table to the left – by himself! He was already eating a hamburger. I came over to his table and asked what he was doing. He put his burger down, wiped his hands & mouth on his napkin, and said that the reservation was messed up – that they didn’t have enough room for him at the table, so he had to eat by himself. He then grumbled a bit under his breath like he does.

I was so angry! I continued down the last few steps and went directly to a hostess station at the bottom of the stairs. There were two women there, and I complained! I was swearing that the reservation was messed up, and now my Dad had to sit at a different f*cking table! This is godda**ed unacceptable!

Then, I turned to the right, and walked over to where the rest of the family was sitting down.

The boys were along the outside edge, and Perry was on the right, after them. I sat down to his right, and my food was already there! (was I really that long in the supposed bathroom!? lol). In fact, I looked at my plate and all I had left was a few stray french fries and some ketchup on my plate.

Rhea was across the table from me (I think Joshua was on her right), and suddenly, she laid down on the table, and placed her head right onto my plate. I remember her hair going down into the fries and ketchup and thinking that it would all get into her hair. I told her, “get up! your hair is in my plate!”.

Then I turned to my right, and there was Mom. Then I woke up.