epic tale of... what? Joan, help me out here

[smibbo]

First off, the whole thing started because goodjoan's husband, Dan, had been kidnapped and taken to India to be a slave. Joan was handling this problem pretty well but I was absolutely distraught, especially that no one else seemed to really believe or care too much about it. I was telling her that I understood and would help any way I could. Interviews with friends and family revealed that it was uncertain whether Dan was a slave or just a servant but I knew someone, somewhere would get around to telling me the truth. Everyone was so blasé about it, it really pissed me off.

Apparently, in my dream, Dan was an artist. He did some work with a wall-sized piece of glass involving colored liquids and I was trying to recreate it (I"m leaving something out here but I'll probably remember it later) Someone else was shining different colored lights for me and I was trying to find the exact shade of blue that Dan used in his piece. This was somehow incremental to tracking him down in India.

Then the other bartender reminded me that we had to hide the unlabelled bottles so that the management wouldn't get mad at us, but they were the key, see? So together we stacked the bottles on top of the unlabelled ones.

Then I'm digging out rectangular pieces above a two foot high wall in order to place the correct squares of concrete on them. I have to do it exactly right and I don't have a lot of time; Dan's counting on me even though he's rather apathetic about being saved. My dog Nzinga helps me measure out the correct size rectangles (?!?!) by lying on the dirt in such a way that her body exactly lines up with what I'm supposed to dig. I'm amazed that she is so smart, "Nzinga! OMG! how in the HELL do you know this?!" she just nods sagely and proceeds to dig for me since I'm so stunned I can't dig properly. Dan's still waiting, but he's okay cuz there's lots of bidis (Indian tobbacco) for him to smoke (?!)

Oooookay.