I rarely remember dreams. I have vivid visions of relatives telling me they're riddled with cancer, then finding out a week later - for real. There was also a photograph of a former boss standing in the kitchen of his bar, large chef's toque on, brandishing a meat cleaver with an evil leer on his face. A sex dream with a train wreck of a celebrity. I told my ex about that one. She thought about it for a second then asked if she was any good.
Last night's was set in a wine shop. One I may or may not have worked at. The owner was marking down wine and pointed out a bottle of vintage French Champagne 1990 (a very good year) to me. It was a $56 bottle on sale at $36.09. There was one bottle left and I could not afford it. He asked me how old I was. I told him. He then said that I should sail around the world for a year and buy it then.
In another part of the shop, a man was pleasuring himself. After finishing he said something like, 'what a relief', then left. The owner was watching him, not in a voyeuristic way, but to make sure there was no additional trouble.