DREAM DIARY
If I remember the dream, it will live on here for everyone to remember.
This website started in June 2001; so after each month a new page will go up & previous ones will be linked here. 
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2015: JAN    FEB    MAR    APR    MAY    JUN    JUL    AUG    SEP    OCT    NOV    DEC

Well, not many remembered dreams this month either, except this one:

OCTOBER 30, 2001:
 And it was another one of my classic "bar" dreams... I was back at the old 611 tavern behind the bar. The theme of this one seemed to be "where's the bottle". Some old drag queen named Lucy ordered a glass of merlot on several occasions in this dream, and each time either the glasses would be moved, or the wine bottles would be moved or could not be found. A few beers were poured & served, and the bar was cleaned off in between "episodes".

At one point, I went to get a bar rag, and the sink had too much soap in it so when I wiped, the rag just left a trail of foam & soap suds on the bar and smeared cigarette ashes around instead of picking them up. It took several tries on several occasions of dunking the rag in the rinse basin of the 3-basin Auto-Chlor sink and then some desperate wringing to get enough of the soap out of the rag to make it usable.

Perodically, my helper (barback) Ron (also a drag queen, but dressed like a man in this dream) would surface and help out a little with either serving or cleaning, but most of the dream seemed to revolve around not being able to find the right drink or bottle when called upon to do so, and this seemingly went on for an hour or two. Despite all the trouble, there was an occasional tip found on the bar, usually little piles of dimes probably amounting to a buck each. I don't remember actually picking any of them up, but wiping around them instead.

Toward the end of the dream, four younger guys (a couple of white guys and a couple of Alaskan natives) came in and wanted glasses of beer, but when I opened up the tap, a little beer shot out and then it stopped. Great. Must have blown a keg. Someone chuckled while I repeatedly flipped the tap open & closed a few times to determine that the keg really was all gone.
But when I went under the counter to change the kegs, I found that the "compressor" was blown as well as a keg. (apparently, we didn't believe in CO2 bottles in this dream). The "compressor" looked a lot like a keg, and hooked up like one, but in the dream I knew it wasn't a keg.

And instead of large kegs of beer we normally used, it seemed the whole corner of the cooler was piled with little 22 ounce kegs, and I remember thinking what a pain in the ass that would be to have to change kegs with every 3 or 4 glasses served.

When I unhooked the blown "compressor" and went through the cooler to drag out another, instead I found an upright vacuum cleaner with a hose attachment that the bar's owner had put there to be used as a "compressor". I remember not thinking it was odd, but thinking of how I would drown out the noise once I got it hooked into the system. I figured I could just turn up the jukebox and deal with it that way. I also remember thinking how I would change the vacuum cleaner over from suction to blower, as I've never had a convertible vac before.
The remainder of the large under-bar keg cooler was stuffed with regular sized kegs, all empty.

Lucy the drag queen ordered up another glass of merlot wine, and another bar-wide search was made for the bottle. Every cabinet, every cooler, every bottle was thoroughly checked but in the end, my barback found it in the small cubbyhole area behind the bar's front door where people normally threw their coats in the winter. As he was walking toward the end of the bar where the employee access cutout was, I woke up.

Most of the bar patrons seemed familiar, as if I had known them all in my real life when I tended bar back in the 80s.

And unlike all of my other bar dreams, this one didn't have a malfunctioning cash register in it. Could this be an omen of money coming my way? :)

Questions? Comments? E-mail me.

Contents copyright (C) 2001-2015 Craig S Johnson