I'm in the dark?

Weird dreams seem to abide within me from time to time with no morning recollection other than something mysterious had taken place…however this night I arose, just in the nick of time, to a strange event that seemed real and I remember it as though it just happened.

I seemed to be in a dark, mafia type, restaurant similar to those in New York, Chicago, or even here in Las Vegas. The Maitre d escorted me to a place at the bar saying that was the last seat available. The other patrons were shadowy figures.
Before me on the bar was one of those big square black plates with several half-eaten food items. It was like a bite of this and a bite of that.
The Maitre D said he would have it taken away and snapped his fingers for a busboy. Bartenders and waitresses passed by me as though I wasn’t there. The whole thing seemed rather ghostly.
I was hungry a bit and the plate seemed appetizing. I picked up a fork and began to play with the food. It was some sort of classy gourmet fare with dribbles of exotic sauces drizzled around as if by an artistic chef. There was chocolate on a plate that I took to be a moose.
Two bottles of wine sat there half drunk, alongside an overturned shot glass.
In the background people were coming and going, not necessarily in that order.
I asked a waitress to take care of the mess. She said she would handle it. As time went by I asked her again. She said she was sorry and they just had a shift change.
Discretion is said to be the better part of valor, so I discressed.
She returned and said, “Here you are, sir.” As she threw down a check.
I looked at it, and saw it to be outrageous.
“This is not my check,” I said, “I haven’t even eaten yet!”
“Well you’ve half eaten!” she said looking at the plate.
“This is not my food and I’m not paying for it!”
“I just started, Sir and your check was left by the previous waitress.”
“Well the food was left by the previous diner.”

Details from that point blurred up. They called for other waiters and waitresses, bartenders, and barmaids, managers, and big dopey looking guys from a back room with big cigars.
The next thing I knew I was running away and they pretended to shoot at a guy who was getting close to me. I could tell they were really shooting at me. A big guy with a shotgun, or a guy with a big shotgun? Fired at me and I woke up, just in the nick of time.
One thing is for sure, dream or no dream, I’m NEVER going back there.

I really did have that dream.

Penwose Out
By George
NoPo8