rshort1202

I’m in what feels like a casino restaurant. There are some others here, family?, and we’re eating what seems like dinner. The meal, every part of it - spaghetti, sausage, and something else - is delicious. I think we’re done now and get up. Nat, Kass, and Rob are here in the kitchen? We learn that they are the ones who have cooked this, each responsible for a different portion.

I’m going to meet some people from work at a restaurant. I’m here now, somewhere I’ve never been. The restaurant is very large; there are rooms and wide hallways, replete with tables, every one of which looks fully occupied. I think we have a table reserved and that no one else is here yet (I think I arrived with someone?). Now I think we’re seated (I’m not sure who is here) and the service is extremely slow (we wait an hour or more).

I’m going to some restaurant with Makayla. I think it’s Mexican food, and it seems like it’s inside of a strip mall. We sit down at a booth and I pick the cheese enchiladas from the menu pretty quick. They sounded good, but the picture solidifies my decision (*I think I’m actually thinking of the enchiladas we had last night). There seems to be a pretty good beer selection, so I look for something to go well with them. The waiter has come over and Makayla is ordering, so I try to pick something quickly while he’s here. There’s a section of beers from London, two unfamiliar ones and then porter and stout, in that order. I pick one of the unfamiliar ones, trusting it to be good. I tell him something like ‘as long as it’s light’. Now he is bringing a pink beer (maybe a sour or a nitro) but realizes it’s a mix-up. We find which one it seems like on the menu to know which handle it got switched with (29). Now he brings the correct beer and it is very pale, almost like lemonade. It tastes very light too, almost flavorless.

I am walking up to a restaurant. The exterior seems large and through the few large windows I see that it is completely empty inside. There are tables and chairs set out like normal, but there is not a single person. Now I think I’m inside and notice signs related to the restrictions and shut downs. I continue on and down some stairs, finding a completely full dining room on this lower level, making me think the signs were just a guise. I notice that everyone is dressed business casual or nicer. There is also no social distancing or any other apparent measures. I’m now sitting at a table with Alex, Melissa, and some others. The menu is Mexican, and I pick out something relatively quick, yet when the waitress comes over I’ve completely forgotten. I think I tell her this and then end up ordering the thing I wanted. I have taken a small edible and I think it’s kicking in. Everything feels slightly fuzzy and a little funnier. I laugh at small things but am not completely out of it. The food shows up and I start with my rice and beans. About halfway or so through them, I start to think there is no entrée on the plate. I then find it on the far side of the plate, a tiny, smothered burrito. I am about to start it when I notice that everyone else looks just about finished, making me a little self conscious.

Arriving at a restaurant, I meet Brooke at a booth. The restaurant seems opulent and large, but almost like it’s inside something else, such as a shopping mall. I’m pretty sure Melissa is coming too. The waitress, cousin Renee, comes over quickly for our order. I think I tell her we need some time. Her interactions are hurried. Looking over the somewhat short menu, I decide on the ‘women’s dinner.’ I don’t care what it’s called - it comes with a few things that sound good. I also look over the drink menu - mostly frilly cocktails. When she comes back, we order. I think about asking if there might be a good beer that’s not on the menu, but decide against it, thinking it kind of desperate.




I am in what seems like a highschool, showing up late to a class. Looking through the closed door, I see almost every seat (~20+) occupied. The teacher must notice me, as she tells me to come in. There is a project that’s due and is being presented today. Mine is a picture or sculpture of a dolphin? with drawn white lines on/below it. (*This reminds me of the painted dolphin sculpture I made and had as a kid.) With a lurch of the stomach I realize that I’m missing a large portion of what I need. I think these things are different line weights and an explanation of the typeset (*This is now reminding me of Dance, Dance, Dance and the Dolphin Hotel). I think that gets communicated to her, and she gives me time to do it. *Typing this a few days later, I’m remembering that sculpture as a whale, not a dolphin.




I am in a plane that has just begun its descent into Reno. I notice that we are very close to the ground already; specifically, it looks like we’re above the riverwalk. Quickly, I begin to think we’re far too low for not being anywhere near the runway. This sentiment is apparently shared with the pilot, as, with an ominous mechanical groan, the plane slows and seems to try to begin reversing. At this point it is all but futile. The plane almost comically collides with a ballard and begins spinning. The pilot works to correct the spin, and we then land not too abrasively on the large sidewalk. The ride was enough to set me a little on edge but not enough to terrify me, seeing how close to the ground we already were. At one point, I saw peoples’ shocked expressions as they watched from behind the curtain wall of a taller building. After the plane has settled, we unbuckle and disembark as if this is not too uncommon.

I’m at some small restaurant. It seems like it’s partially indoors and partially outdoors or maybe is in some kind of enclosed plaza. I think I’m with 1-2 others. We sit at a booth, and there is a little wrought iron fence that can be drawn around it. I wonder about its purpose, if it has a function or if it's merely aesthetic. I look to a booth across the way - it is reserved for ‘the Germans’. I know there is potato salad and German beer here, so I assume they come here regularly for it. I’ve ordered a beer and it arrives as a half full stein. I finish it quickly (I think it’s a lager) and wonder if it’ll be filled again or if I’ll have to pay for another.

I’m in a restaurant with Brittney and probably Melissa. It seems like Olive Garden or some other Italian. It is fairly full but doesn’t seem crowded. There are three porta-potties against the wall inside, with more people than I expect visiting them. I see two people fight over what was first to one of them. We are sitting next to them, so I wait until it’s cleared out and get up to use one. Now I’m back at the table and talking about growing my hair out. It’s already down around my shoulders, but I want it very long. Brittney seems fond of the idea, and I think I’m really going to.

Emma and her boyfriend are getting married. We are all at the small venue - a restaurant? - and I get the sense that we’ve travelled a ways for it. The interior is dim, carpeted, with darker wood. There is a mezzanine level with chairs at slot machines that have been turned to a stage on the ground level. I think some of Dad’s and Melissa’s family are here, and I’m sitting by Melissa’s mom. We’re looking at the single page menu that just seems to be a bunch of meats. We’re trying some and I like this certain salted one that I think I’ll order. I’m now up and walking around, looking at different things on the walls, and getting really close as if I don’t have any contacts in. I look at a very small beer menu right behind a table that a small family is sitting at. I’m awkwardly close to them, which they notice, and it also seems like I’m looking at them. I’m at a counter now where I think they are serving beer. There are a few options written on the counter surface and one middle-older aged guy serving. I look for a minute, then order the ESB, thinking it sounds good right now. For a moment I think it’s going to be a sandwich? but then he hands me a paper cup. It looks more like a latte or coffee drink. I try it and it’s good, tasting like a flat white with some kind of spice.

I’m in Virginia City with Dad and I think Kris. we are in a building that seems larger than any really up there. It may be a restaurant or a restaurant attached to something else. There are tall ceilings and baroque wood work and decorations. It seems empty and dim to dark. I am walking to the bathrooms and there is something about a certain portion of them being haunted. I’m wearing a face mask, at times putting it over my eyes? I’m feeling really creeped out, like I could see something scary/paranormal any minute. Now, I’m walking around outside with Dad. We are pointing out the ‘haunted’ spots. I hold my phone up to one of the spots and watch as the temperature on the screen drops from 80-something to about 30 degrees. This happens quickly and is very creepy. There are two to three guard dogs out here, and one starts channeling the voice of a spirit. The dog growls low and constantly but seems to transmit a human voice after Dad and I ask it a question. I think we have a paranormal encounter elsewhere too.

I am in or near downtown with Melissa and Brooke, going into a restaurant. The place is somewhat small and modern looking (sparse décor and a simple counter). The long counter is along the right hand wall, perpendicular to the doors. There are menus above the counter and then seating across from the counter. It’s fairly crowded and I don’t notice any masks (it almost feels like there is no need for it in the dream, as if it’s pre-Covid). We shuffle in and a man comes over to take our order. None of us are ready; he tells us to move somewhere else while we look?, I think to maintain some kind of social distancing. We’re now seated in a booth. I think I’m irritated at Melissa/the situation unjustly, because we weren’t ready. A larger, bald? server comes over and sits at our booth to take our order. Nobody seems ready, still. I sort of grumpily volunteer to go first. I had been thinking of a scotch that sounded good, but couldn’t think of the name. I thought it started with an ‘H’ and even googled ‘Scotch that starts with H’. I noticed Melissa glancing at my phone as I held it somewhat under the table. I never found out what I was thinking of. I tell him “I’ll have a scotch, please. Neat.” hoping he won’t ask which kind or planning to say McCallan 12 year. After a moment he says something like ‘I heard if you put some Amber in it, it’ll make it weak… like Sisolak’. I realize he heard ‘weak’ instead and nicely tell him ‘no, neat’. Melissa is now casually mentioning that Sam plans to break up with her tomorrow over text/FaceTime? She says she’s fine with it and sounds it too. She’s now telling me she got the job at a pizza place. I tell her I’m happy for her. I see a picture of a pizza divided into the 7 days and ask if she’ll have to work every day. She says no.

I am working outside at Grassroots. The space doesn’t actually look like what we have; it’s more of an open dirt space with some tables, tents, and boxes, and I don’t see the store in the background. I’m sitting under a smaller shade tent, making a card. I must’ve put glue on the front, because I’ve poured quite a bit of sprinkles (pinks, whites, and purples) on and am shaking it slightly so they’ll settle and coat the front. Before I can finish, Ben comes over and asks if I want to learn ‘the fire’. I say yes, setting the card down and getting up to follow him. He’s not wearing a mask, so I am able to see his face. There’s a fairly large fire pit with a stainless steel ring around it that they use to do some kind of work. I’m not sure we’ve done anything yet, when everyone sits around the pit for lunch. I think that someone here makes lunch for those what want it but that about half of everyone has brought food. I have a grocery bag full of smaller bags of food items that is resting on my feet dangling over the edge of the pit. The pit is maybe ten feet across and there’s probably ten to twelve of us. I notice the different extents of mask wearing. Most don’t wear one, allowing me to see some faces for the first time. I wonder, but am not worried, about us all being this close. No one else seems to mind either. At some point, I am by Zoe. She is pretty close to me, and I notice how she’s wearing a thin, light blue bandanna over just her nose. I’m not sure how this is even done; there seems to be a twist in it - it’s coming from the side - that allows it to barely hang on. I’m thinking that it makes no sense and is bold for her. She happily tells me not to worry, that I ‘won’t be getting her air.’ I’m not sure.




I’m approaching what seems to be a very hipster restaurant. It looks like Midtown, and I think I’m with two others (not sure who). There’s a section of outdoor seating that is a small triangle, the side of which is a thick, split rail fence. The picnic style seating is overcrowded with lots of black band shirts and long, greasy hair - that kind of crowd. We go in and are seated now. Our waiter is friendly. Looking through the menu of two to three pages, I decide that the place is overpriced. There’s a ‘dog’ (hot dog?) something for $20. At the top of the menu, it says something to the effect of: If something doesn’t come with a side, we’ll try to come up with something else. I notice a menu item that I think is some kind of pasta that I like for a reasonable ($12-13) price. The waiter sees me looking and says yes, it means what I think it does. I’m not sure I even asked him. He says part of it means salad or something about a salad. I think he brings out beer now. I am putting a bottle cap into an orange, plastic ring where it snaps into place. It looks like the plastic rings for a six pack of cans, but small enough to fit bottle caps instead. I think about possibly getting some beer on draft too because I see two guys at a counter with a pint of lighter beer each. They look younger and, for whatever reason, like they’re from California (they look extremely average, though). There’s a blond guy sitting alone further down this long bench. He is small but buff. He’s wearing jeans or overalls and a tight shirt. I think he’s talking on the phone and he sounds absolutely vapid. For some reason, I think he’s ‘typical Reno.’




I’m in a large, opulent house on a hill where I know Jim, Rhianna, and Ella are staying (I don’t think I ever think of John - it’s almost like before he was born?). There’s something about a storm heading this way, over the nearby ocean. I’m looking for everyone, but they all seem to be taking a shower. I think Ella and Rhianna are in the same one or at least the same bathroom. I go into a dark bedroom and open the bathroom to see a dim light on and hear the shower with low water pressure running over a person. I know Jim is in there, so I wonder why all these lights are out.




I’m with Melissa, and we’ve ended up at Dad’s house. This house is actually very large and opulent. I think we’re on the second floor, in the spacious kitchen with marble counters and nice wood cabinets. I smell something good and then notice a plate of barbecue chicken. We now decide that, on second thought, the smell is not that good. Dad now shows up; I didn’t know he was here.

I am outside somewhere - it feels like an outdoor shopping mall or a boardwalk. I’m walking to a restaurant when I see Alex and Daylen. They walk over and we talk for a bit. I go into the restaurant now, more of a counter service place (maybe a MyPie?). It seems dim and there is a long, double backed line of people, spaced apart by pieces of large white tape on the grey polished concrete floor. I notice that everyone in here is around 16-18 and immediately feel out of place. Despite their age, I can tell they are from this certain generation by the way they’re dressed and talking (*This reminds me of the barista last night that I thought was a pretty stereotypical example of the younger-than-me generation).




It seems really early in the morning (dawn or just before), and I’m walking up to some chain food place. I order two black hot coffees, just assuming Brittney is coming to meet me. When I text her, she says she’s already getting coffee somewhere. I finish mine, which actually has milk/flavor, and start on the other. The coffee is good for a place that doesn’t specialize in coffee.

I am somewhere outside? with Melissa, Pepe, and his mom. I think they both look high and then, sure enough, she lets on that they are. She confides in us that Caesar is the head of some pot farm/ selling ring or something similar. I can see it, imagining him and his boisterous personality right now. Now, I am climbing up through some tall and thin wooden structure. I pass through ‘floors’ that are spaces barely bigger than my body. Each side of the space, I think even including the top, is a mirror, making for a trippy experience. I now get to what seems to be the top. It is different because the sides are concave, joining in a small ceiling, and it seems there’s nowhere left to go. I don’t accept this possibility though, and push on one of the sides. It opens and reveals a vast, dim space that I think may be the pot farm.




I am in New York City with Melissa, walking along a sidewalk. The street is busy and I can smell and taste the putrid emissions from passing trucks. The sidewalk is close enough to the street, but it thins even further at one point, leaving hardly any space for foot traffic. We pass a tower with a parabolically curved glass facade. The glass is mostly translucent, but it gets much dimmer higher up. There is a space behind the glass, in which there are large advertisements. Melissa says something about how they won’t even be visible. I agree. We end up in a restaurant that seems familiar (from another dream, I think). I notice a couple about our age in the booth behind us, across from me. They are dressed pretty nice for this place and sitting on the same side. I think about their life. I notice a man in sunglasses sitting alone at a booth diagonal from us. Melissa asks to trade sides, and we do. I look through the fairly short menu and decide I want pretty much the first thing on it, some corn dog things. The waitress, brunette and maybe 30+, comes over and seems out of it, like drunk or sad or something. She gives us a minute. I look at the extensive beer list in the back. They’re sorted by brewery (they must all be local - I don’t recognize any), under the brewery’s logo. The price per beer is then listed after the name, lowest to highest, separated by slashes. Most of the first prices are six to seven dollars, but I see prices like 9,16, 27, 59, etc. I think these prices must be for bottles and/or pitchers but that they’re still ridiculous. I guess that’s just how it is in the city. Nothing sounds too good anyway, so I figure I’ll settle for a slightly cheaper bill. The waitress returns and sits by me, putting her hand on my shoulder. It could be a nice gesture, but with how she is slightly rubbing her hand it is taken a little too far. She takes Melissa’s order and then mine. I say ‘I just found something, where did it go?’, trying to find it again. I find it and tell her while also pointing. She doesn’t say much. She comes back and sits again. This time she reaches over and grabs my crotch. I am a little shocked and put my own hand over it. When I move my hand, she does it again and then leaves. I text or tell Melissa and she just shrugs it off. I want to tell her what kind of reaction there would be if the genders were switched.

I am working at Sherwin Williams. I think I have come back for just today. I think I’m going to just work today and use all my old info to clock in, etc, as if that’ll actually work. I’m thinking that the people still working here will remember me and remember that I left. I am in a sort of goofy, detached mood that has to do with me being back in a place that I willingly left. This place definitely doesn’t look like SW, but more like a movie theater or something similar. Everyone is gathering in a dim room with a stage or some other platform and fairly steep, tiered, red seats. Melissa’s dad is giving a speech or talking to everyone. I am walking in with Nathaniel Fuller? (He appears to be as he was when I knew him). He is in the lead and takes an aisle seat in the front row. I’m not sure whether I’m sitting with him or not, so I survey the seating. There’s an empty row, but I’m not sure if it’d be weird if I sat alone or not. I end up taking the seat between him and another (familiar?) guy. The seat seems small and I feel squished between the two. Now, (or maybe it was earlier?) I am walking around here. There’s a long hallway area and different inlets. I enter one and am in a grocery store. I felt like I was going to get lost or end up somewhere and not really know how to get back, and now it has happened. I see a chubby guy with shaggy hair and scruff pushing a shopping cart. It is full of liters of light colored soda. I think I try to find my way back. I am with Melissa and Brooke now, outside and by some small, enclosed ticket taking booth inside which sits a middle aged woman. We have some receipt (from Sherwin Williams?) that we’re trying to use to go to the restaurant or food place that the tickets are for. We don’t have the actual ticket, but I’m thinking that this receipt will show that we have permission. I could see where the lady would think we’re being fraudulent, but we’re not. When she talks to us, Brooke’s replies are kind of snarky, even though this lady let us through. She’s actually been pretty nice, and probably doesn’t care if we do get to go.




I am in the living room at Dad’s. From my perspective, it looks like I could have just come in from the garage. I’ve walked into a scene of two police officers sitting on the floor and a large group of people standing around them. Dad may be here too, and I think the officers may be in plainclothes. They tell me they are here because of my social media rends/tendencies. I feel a pang of guilt in my stomach that is only amplified by the disappointed looks on every face. I am thinking that they’ve found me out and there’s nothing to do about it but accept it. I am slightly relieved when they tell me that they can’t do anything about it legally, But then I think that means the FBI has to get involved.

I am in a restaurant with Melissa and I think some others. It seems fairly crowded and a tiny bit cramped. Melissa asks me something like ‘is that her?’, referencing a girl at the table across from us. The table is against the wood paneled wall and full with at least four people. I think Melissa is asking if it’s Reilly. The table is slightly behind me, so I have to covertly turn my head to get a glance. The girl looks fairly similar to Reilly, but seems thicker, more made up, with curlier hair. The group seems to find something funny or amusing; it seems like they are quietly laughing. They also seem to be looking over here, possibly what is causing the giggling. I now get up to go use the bathroom and to get a better look on my way. In the bathroom, I start using the urinal, which is short, low to the ground, and a stainless steel trough style.