u/workingclassher0n

In this dream I was watching a cooking show. It was like a 'science of cooking' type thing. The guy presenting was making Viral First Contact Stew. Somehow a mathematical equation had proved that any hostile aliens would be allergic to the same things we're allergic to, while benevolent aliens would tolerate these foods well. Therefore, First Contact Stew, which the presenter assured us had gone viral, was a safeguard against alien invasion. You could offer this stew to the aliens and they would suffer a fatal anaphylactic reaction. At some point he used the phrase 'highly allergenic foods'.

The stew, which was not actually stew at all, consisted of walnuts, shrimp, and chunks of mango and tomato. Raw potato chunks were added at the end 'to really sock it to em'. All this was cooked in a pan with some water and no spices.

This is a long one, but I'm at work with not much to do until our evening event starts, so I'm typing this up.

This dream started where I was packing for a trip, using a new blue luggage with lots of pockets. I kept losing things in all these pockets and having to recheck that I had packed them. Then, my husband got an email that said someone had left a secret message for me in the bag. I looked and looked, and finally found 2 packs of herb cigarettes and 2 shrink wrapped bricks of cocaine, flat discs a little smaller than tuna cans.

'I don't even LIKE cocaine!' I exclaimed (I've never tried it). '(Guy from local organization we volunteer with) must have put it there,' my husband said. 'You don't want to be late,' he added.

Then Eric Clapton's 'Cocaine' began playing over what seemed to be the opening credits of a movie, showing the Seattle skyline. 'Be There At 11' was overlaid in bold yellow text.

Then the dreamed moved to a waterfront restaurant, I was seated at a little light blue wrought iron table on the sidewalk, smoking one of the herb cigarettes and looking at the No Smoking sign. I figured it would be okay because it wasn't tobacco , but worried nonetheless and felt anxious the whole time. At the end of the street was a recurring dream figure of mine, a guy in a long black coat, ceramic mask, and black derby hat. I wondered where his other half was because he usually is with another identical version of himself, and together, these two claim to be a singular angel. I figured the cocaine was for him, so I put both the cocaine pucks on the table. They had turned into dishwasher pods.

The waiter came out and brought me some coffee. The dream figure sat down across from me. 'He's in Spokane,' he said, meaning his other half.

Our food arrived. It was clam chowder. It had big leek slices and also littleneck clams. It was delicious, but as I ate, it became clear there were diecast toy cars in it. Frantic, I checked the bottom of the bowl, and found it was all toy cars at the bottom.

The dream figure took one of my herb cigarettes and made a big show of getting up to cross the street to smoke while looking out over the water instead of smoking right under the no smoking sign. I felt he was being sanctimonious and went to eat his soup, but was alarmed to find he had put both cocaine bricks in it.

'This is a Tarantino movie', he called out from across the road. 'That's like having a damn fine cup of coffee for me,' he added. It really pissed me off for an angel to be doing coke, that we were in a Tarantino movie, and also for him to be smoking. But then I woke up.