i'm great at rugby and i've gone back in time

bean burritos, some PBR, late night frosted flakes

Shane convinces me to come with him to his rugby scrimmage and play.I go, our team is in white, the other team is in red and yellow stripes, but these are soccer uniforms, really, and the game is really soccer with us being able to pick up and throw the ball, too. The opposing team is made up of Delfino look-alikes and we definitely out size and out power them, but as it's really soccer, they are still able to hold their own. I have no idea of positions or the rules, so I just go crazy and I'm all over the field, every time they turn around I'm tackling. I even score once. At the end, the coach come up in amazement and asks, "Where did you COME from?" and asks where I "want to stand." (Meaning, what position would I like to play, I get the feeling I could have my pick.) I tell him I don't know anything about rugby, so I don't know, but I'm glad to come back and play with the team. I'm proud and energized.

Shane and I walk home through the city. We pass a ripped out flat. Red brick, narrow plan, tall windows, at least 5 stories high. Dr. Mead is there with blueprints. I tell Shane that my friend Michele and her husband are remodelling this flat using a Bart Prince (or maybe Predock?) design. Michele come down and we chat, slag off the museum. For some reason I think that she's quit, but then I realize that she's still working there. We hug and part ways.

I go to work at IV. The layout is more like my usual dream IV, though this time even more like a Dions in some ways. I jump on the register, telling people that I've been playing rugby and I'm too worn out to do floor. The first customer up is a girl, she's happily babbling away and I cant hear her order. She repeats something about eggplant, and I tell her we don't have eggplant. This blows up her ideas for dinner, so she has to look at the menu. She asks a million questions, seems to order several things and then always reneges. She starts saying things like, "I'll have a Dr. Pepper, no Dr. Pepper sub Coke." I'm increasingly frustrated. When she says she wants no iced tea-- NO iced tea on the table, I lose it. I tell her that she can't possibly go through the menu and say what all she DOESN'T want, that I don't have time for that. I tell her that when she decides what she wants, I would be glad to take her order, but until then I have things I need to do, and could she please stand aside.

I start to realize that other people working there are people that worked there years and years ago. Including the wierd blonde woman i did ceramics with in school that I see at art shows. She's wearing mom jeans. I turn to a cook who looks like Ezra and ask what year it is. He starts off about "It's the year that IV really gets established as a restaurant..." I interrupt and ask him to just straight out say what year it is, even though it's a wierd question. He tells me it's 1986. I'm shocked, but I can do 1986. I'm still and adult, and Josh seems to be around. I can do 1986.