Dream 9.28.07

I am eating "lunch" with a child actor - in my dream.
(I quote "lunch" because everyone basically eats whatever they feel like during a midday lunch-sized break from shooting this strange scary movie, which had, in part, preceded this moment in my dream.)
He eats some freshly prepared Caesar Salsa...

Take a moment to imagine what this dish looks, smells, tastes like.
A white florray with hints of earthly green and red garnishing each scoop of the dusty rainbow tortilla slices. Bountifully chunky, and not too saucy, the bulks of his bites grab the chip preferring to be stomached by the young man rather than grace the forbidden ground of this gas station parking lot, even tented from the sun as it is. The air is warm and almost dry, but when child actor cracks the lid it radiates a conditioning into the air as a crisply-opened refrigerator door. The aroma and the breeze of Caesar Salsa wrap around my nose, my mouth, my face. I inhale and profess, "If I could have whatever I wanted for lunch every day, I guess that's what I'd eat too."

And of course, because this is my dream, everyone chuckles,,,
including the pretty girl sitting on my left
with an apple red lunch
meeting her apple red lips...

but that's another story.