I walk into the production portion of the office, holding a slab of cheese which I'm halfway through eating. Gary is sitting at a computer terminal discussing a book with a designer, holding his own halfway-eaten slab of cheese (or perhaps it's sitting in the chair next to him). I remember that the last time we crossed paths in the office both of us were eating cheese, and this spurs me to ask him if he's still working on the same piece of cheese. It comes out as "Same one?" and I worry briefly that Gary won't understand the question because it is pretty oblique (and slightly muffled by cheese), but he sees me glancing at his cheese and nods, "Yeah." He then adds, "You, too?" I don't actually remember if I've finished and started a new piece of cheese since last we spoke, but that would seem embarrassingly gluttonous so I quickly say "Yes." I glance over at the row of computers and one of the people working there is Quentin Tarantino. I am only mildly surprised. I take another bite of cheese. My wife's alarm goes off.
I should perhaps mention that in three and half decades we've worked together neither Gary nor I has ever walked around the office eating cheese. I did have pizza for lunch yesterday, though.
Description of this dream guaranteed 100% accurate.