The Geneva Pizza Dream, Again.

I've written about this before, but it happened again. I had "The Geneva Pizza Dream."

When I've had a bad day at work, or when work gets stressful I have "The Geneva Pizza Dream." Geneva Pizza was a bit of a stressful place to work. I worked there for a few years and then I quit. I quit by walking out in the middle of my shift in hysterics. A customer gave me a ride home.

Ah, fun times.

In short, in The Geneva Pizza Dream the restaurant is super busy and no matter what I do I can't quite catch up. People can't get their pizzas, the phone won't stop ringing, the keg needs to be tapped, or if it is tapped all I get is foam, people are screaming at me ..... you get the picture.

Over time the dream has changed a bit. In one version I go back to run the place or I go back to pick up some extra cash, but in both of those cases after it gets too busy I say 'screw it, it's just a cruddy pizza place" and I walk out.

Last night I had a new version of the dream.
I was working at Geneva Pizza. My boss wasn't the boss I had when I worked there but my boss that I have now. We were in the pizza place right before opening. I told him to turn on the oven because customers were going to be in soon and we have to cook some pies. He told me he wasn't going to because he didn't think we were going to have any customers that day. I thought it was strange but didn't question him. I started to walk over to the closet and I tripped over a red bicycle. I asked him if the bike was his. He said yes. I was surprised he had ridden his bike to work. I walked over to the supply closet. It was twice as big as I remember and decorated like a living room in a crappy apartment all decked out for Christmas. I closed the closet door and started looking at some coupons for free make-up. The coupons were made out of vellum. They were a pearlish color with black text. When I read the fine print it said in order to be eligible for the free make-up I had to be 16 or over and Japanese. While I was trying to figure out a way to convince the coupon people that I was Japanese, three teenage girls came up to me and I gave them half of my coupons.