Dream: I'm staring at a thick white tablecloth with gleaming stemware. Soft relaxing music is playing in the background and I hear the clinking of glass along with the pitter-patter of people's jaws creating small talk.
"Do we have a deal?"
I break my gaze from the tablecloth and look towards the origin of the voice. A tan man with brown hair and a sharp goatee is staring back at me. From the look of the blazer he was wearing I could tell this was a man of money.
"Mr. Davies?"
I didn't know what we were talking about.
"Could you run the major details by me again?" The man looked back at me insulted as if I wasn't paying attention.
"Ok...well what we are prepared to offer you Mr. Davies is the starring role in the new film ‘Occam's Razor Fists’..." as soon as he said that I started day dreaming at the table of what it would be like to be in an action movie. The idea was very exciting! I saw myself with a ripped shirt and pale belly punching through sets and blocking camera flashes as I rushed into buildings.
"...project should take a little over a year." I snapped out of my thoughts and stared back at the man.
I looked down at my plate and saw I had a healthy serving of contract and a fountain pen lay on the napkin beside it.
"Give me a moment to think about this."
I got up from the table and walked towards the kitchen's double door entrance. I walked past round white tables with smiling patrons chewing and sipping their meals. While I looked around I began to realize how massive this dining room was. I closed in on the double doors that were leaking delicious fumes from its crevices.
I eased my way through the right door so I wouldn't crash into the whites of any staff. I found a corner of the kitchen where I would be out of the way. I looked by the counter tops and line workers for someone but I couldn't spot him. Luckily I spotted the Sous Chef,
"Lisa! Have you seen Edward?" A face emerged from a counter top accompanied by blond hair and a white skull cap. She smiled and gestured towards the back door,
"He's probably out back by cigarette mountain." I looked towards a lonely green door. I thanked Lisa with a hand wave and made for the back.
On the other side of the door I was greeted by overflowing garbage bins and some steps that lead to a back parking lot. Sitting on the steps by a monument to tobacco companies was a man in chef whites and a bandanna.
"Edward, there you are!"
A man massaging his brow looked up at me.
"Not a great time Sam," he said as he looked back down to the stairs.
"I just wanted you to have these." I reach into my back pocket and pull out my expensive headphones. Widened eyes greeted my gift and Edward gasped,
"You can't give me these it's not that simple."
"Yes it is."
I leave them in his hands and head back into the kitchen. I scoot around hustling cooks, and duck out of the way of hot skillets. When I emerge back into the dining room a few things had changed. In the center of the dining room there was live piano music next to a bar which seemed to be made of glass. As I walked back to my table I noticed more diners than I did before. Some of my neighbors that I had known all my life wave to me from different tables. I hear a voice from a distant table to the left of me say,
"Looking snazzy Sam!" I look down at myself and I'm wearing a white suit with pristine jacket buttons. With my new threads I swagger over to my table and pick up the pen. I look at my dinner companion and start scribbling my name on the paper,
"Lets do this!"
The man picked up the papers and quickly shoved them into a manila envelope. He shouted back to me from the table as I walked towards the bar,
"You won't regret this sir!"
I wink back at him and walk to the rhythm of the piano to the bar. As I approach the thick glass I notice there is one patron stashing a cocktail napkin into his suit as he waves farewell to a women in a slick cocktail dress. He swivels his stool back towards the barkeep and he breathes in with satisfaction. With his profile now available to my eyes I notice it is my friend Paul. I saddle up next to him at the bar,
"She looks nice," he turns to me.
"Damnation! How's it going Sam?" I wave the bartender over and ask him to craft me a drink. "Just recently a lot better Paul...a lot better," I take a sip of my amber cocktail.
"You should join me and Joe, we were just grabbing a bite to eat," Paul then directs me to a table in the corner.
Waiting for me at the table was my old professor and good friend Joe.
"Hot dog it's Sam! I didn't know you ate here."
"I actually used to work here, but I finally got a job in this movi..." A sharp pain erupts from my back and I soar over the table and hit the wall.
I get to my feet and dust my jacket off. On the opposing side of the table a back waiter with a pencil thin mustache slowly retracted a fist and returned to a fighting pose. I looked about for a weapon nearby. I eventually saw my broken highball glass on the floor. My fists tightened and I quickly flipped our table onto the waiter. Joe still in his chair looks me up and down. Patrons gasp at the sight, and blood begins to leak out from under the table. A loud amplified voice emerges from above me,
"Alright cut! Can we run that scene back from where he is about to sit down with Joe?"
