Braff, You Bastard

It's not often I remember my dreams. This morning, on my way downtown to work, I passed a fairly popular Italian restaurant that for some reason or another I've never happened into. As soon as I spotted it, it triggered a dream I had last night. Or thought I had. It seemed like some sort of deja vu netherworld. And it went something like this:

I was in this restaurant with a couple friends. I was speaking with one as the waiter approached, and my other friend asked for some bread.

"Would it be possible to get some bread?" She asked.

"We don't have bread," the waiter replied.

"What do you mean you don't have bread? This is an Italian restaurant," she said.

I look up and Zach Braff is our waiter, telling us the Italian restaurant doesn't serve bread.

"I'm sorry, but we don't serve bread," Braff insisted.

"Well, can I get something to chew on," she implored.

"I'll see what I can do," responded Braff.


That was it. That was my dream. I've resolved to go to this place for dinner tonight. If Braff's there, I'll let you know.