"baaarrrtenderrrrr"

It’s 2:46 am and I’ve come to the conclusion that I am probably spending too much time at the restaurant. I just woke up with some crazy nightmare about the bartender (lets call him Tall Guy- not the sleezy guy) being my sister Latina’s psycho husband who kidnaps me and The Grouch (also from work) and traps us in some white room with loud fans. Turns out I cleverly disconnect the fans (interesting how we’re sooo James Bond in our own dreams eh?), break through the ceiling, and happen to subtly warn the two (hot) police officers (guests at the restaurant) in the next room. For some reason we were all in the yard waiting for something when Tall Guy shows up unexpectedly in a grey hoodie thinking The Grouch and I are still locked in the white room. I (of course) manage to sneak away and attempt to escape to the neighbours’ place who happen to be out and left their door open (convenient). I lock myself in the bathroom as Tall Guy comes into the house wanting to kill me. As I’m escaping through the window (also convenient), one of the hot cops busts through the front door and shoots Tall Guy five times in the chest. Then I woke up in a cold sweat (cliché) with my heart racing (cliche). What the eff? Do I secretly fear our bartender?