I was in Japan.  (I don’t know why, but there I was.)  And after some adventures at the airport, I found myself at a restaurant, following behind one of the waitresses, who turned out to be a chef.  And we were stopping by all the tables to make sure everything was ok with everyone’s dinner.  (I’m guessing I learned to speak Japanese.)  After answering many questions about what people were eating, I think because I prepared TexMex for the whole place, I realized that there were TVs set up everywhere. 

I sat down in one of the booths to wait for someone, and was watching the people and a movie of some denomination, when a girl I met in the airport came over and was all excited to see me.  And I realized that I knew her from a long time before the airport…anyway, after a conversation about my ex-husband’s brother, she drugged my drink, and the next thing I knew, I was leading a high speed chase down a highway, on a motorcycle, holding a baby. 

And as soon as I realized (in my dream), that I was riding a motorcycle while holding a baby, I started looking at the controls, trying to figure out how to stop the motorcycle.  (Because in real life…I have no idea, I guess.)  The cops all stopped around me, and this absolutely georgeous man, with flowing, black, waist-length hair strode over and took the baby.  After some conversation about why I had the baby in the first place, he said that he was sure I would get him back as soon as I’d paid the fines(?). 

He handed the baby off to someone and told me to follow him.  He muttered as he walked away, “I wonder why they never put you to work on the bridge.”  When I said “What?”  He said, “Can you get the grill off the fridge?”  And suddenly we were in his apartment, and I was searching for a habatchi in his kitchen. 

And then, I woke up.  Probably because I couldn’t find the grill on the fridge.   

Weird damn dream.  I wonder what it means…