Okay. So, I had a rather disturbing dream last night.
It started out as me driving aimlessly around the parking lot at the Italian Center. At first, I thought i was invited to go swimming but then it switched to me meeting Stew at some fancy French restaurant he was taking me to for our anniversary. Don't ask me why a French place was at the Italian Center. When we got inside, I was bit disappointed to find out that this overrated, overpriced fancy French place was full of obnoxious snooty drunks. And not the kind who are wine snobs but the kind you see in a bar and feel sorry for except they had a lot of money to spend.
I was trying to enjoy my meal when these two guys decided that they were going to wander over and sit at our table and talk to each other loudly. One was a midget. Suddenly the midget started taking these potato chips (but of course in a fancy French place they were called fried au' gratin or something like that) and throwing them all over the table. I said, "excuse me, sir, but this is our anniversary, could you stop doing that and go to another table so we can enjoy our meal." He refused and that REALLY pissed me off. So, I grabbed the midget, smacked him around, shook him and then dragged him down the hill to a house where the staff hung out and I was sure to find a manager. There was a waitress down there and i threw the now beat up and unconscious midget down on the floor and asked to speak to the manager. The waitress said she would go find him. She came back after what seemed like an eternity and offered me some chocolate covered biscotti to take home with me and said she was still looking for the manager. She disappeared for what felt like hours. Every once and a while, the midget would wake up and I would kick him.
Oh relax, it wasn't like he was bleeding and unconscious. He was so blitzed he had no clue what was happening. A lot of the time he appeared to be sleeping with a huge smile on his face.
I looked up the hill and saw Stew sitting at the table with what appeared to be steaming plates of our dinner. He was waiting for me to get back before he dug in. I didn't want the food to get cold so I grabbed the midget and dragged him back up the hill. When i got back to our table, the manager was there with these two huge brandy snifters full of creamy custard (I hate custard) sprinkled with cinnamon and chocolate. It looked like Taramisu. Don't ask me why everything about this French restaurant was Italian. The manager said the desert was on the house because of our troubles. I told him our whole dinner would be on the house and that i simply hate custard.
Then, I woke up