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11/04/2005 Entry: "Crazy Dreams"

OK, so here's the next installment from the crazy Billy Rhythm dream factory.

We're at a restaurant. It's me, Susan, Lisa and Dwane, Mom and Dad (yes, Dad's there), and some guy we don't know. As we're walking to our table, we notice there aren't many people in the restaurant. We're Mainers, so we eat supper early. The crowd isn't here yet. Dad say's "I'd like to buy appitizers for everyone in here." He tells the waiter to take either chicken fingers or stuffed mushrooms to each table.

We sit down and order. The guy we don't know is sitting next to us. He orders a bowl of soup, and the waiter brings it to him. He reaches into his inside jacket pocket, and produces a tin of caviar. He proceeds to drop little dolops onto his soup.

"Have you ever tried caviar?" he asks me in a Brittish accent.
"I have, and I didn't like it. I had it on the cruise."
"Was it on one of those vegetable platters?" he asked.
"Yes it was," I replied. (In reality, I did try caviar on the cruise, but it wasn't on a vegetable platter.)
"Oh, well that's not good caviar. Try this."

He hands me a spoon with a few of the fish eggs on it. They're much bigger in my dream than they are in reality. They're about the size of a chocolate Easter egg. They're blue. I try them. They're not salty a fishy. Instead, they're egg-y. More like a quail egg than a fish egg.

The waiter then brings out our food. Everybody's food is on one giant tray. I had ordered the Duo of Lamb: two braised lamb shanks and two grilled rib chops. (In reality, The Samoset here in town serves the same dish, and it's to die for!!!) Susan puts one shank and one chop on my plate. She begins to put another chop on. I protest, insisting there isn't enough room. She continues despite my protestations. She ends up tipping the plate, and all kids of glace spills on the white tablecloth. I grab a napkin. They're not cloth. They're like the paper ones you get at McDonalds. There are only three on the table, and they are soaked quickly. I call for the waiter. He comes over.

"I need to ask you a favor," he says. "I forgot to write your order down on a slip. Will you please tell me what you had for dinner and appetizers, and I'll make up the tab."
"What about the appetizers my father ordered at the beginning of the evening?" I asked. "How will you generate that?"
"Well, I'll just ask everyone here what they had for appetizers."
"But you can't do that," I said. "Dad wanted to buy apps for the people who were here when we came in. There's a BUNCH more people here now. It wasn't his intention to buy apps for everyone."

I left the table to try and find more napkins. As I was leaving, I decided to ask some early arrivers if they'd gotten an appetizer. They hadn't! They guy was trying to rook us, and pad the bill.

I was moving around the restaurant, when I noticed Sumner Kinney finishing up his meal. I went over to talk to him.

"You know Bill," he said, "if I had a cigar, this would be a perfect evening. To bad I don't have one."
"What if I could get you one?" I asked.
"Well, then I'd believe that you really are the coolest guy in the Rockland Kiwanis club." (In real life Gordon Page always says that I'm the club's coolest member.)
"Wait here," I said. I went to my truck, reached into my drum stick bag, and pulled out a cigar that Joe Catalano (anther Kiwanian) had given me. I took it into Sumner. "It's a little dry, and could use some time in a humidor, but you could smoke it right now."
"Thank you so much," Sumner said.

And I woke up.

Posted by Nikki @ 11/06/2005 10:54 AM EST

How about some more recent pictures of the kids?

Posted by Aunt Ginny @ 11/07/2005 03:13 PM EST