Chase's Superman Costume and Mexican Food

I'm waiting tables in a Mexican restaurant. The setting is extremely familiar. I'm in the kitchen with the "order up" window at eye level in front of me. The metal shelf is covered in fingerprints. The cooks I'm familiar with (from 6 years ago when I worked at the Mexico Cafe) are busy in the kitchen. Sounds of grilling and steaming and dishes touching are all around me. The air is hot and oily.The cranberry red tiled floor is glistening with random greasy smudges.
I'm dressed up in a Superman costume. Stretchy lycra one-piece. Blue from shoulders to ankles with baggy red briefs around my waist. Chase (my coworker @ EPS) is with me and  he tells me it's his costume. I pull at the loose fabric on my stomach and comment about how big it is. Chase let me borrow it.
I'm carrying 3 plates: One large white oval shaped dinner plate, a small dark blue plate with refried beans and on my left forearm I'm balancing a red container with tortillas steaming inside.
Time Travel
I'm at my Grandma Pat's house. Laying just outside the doorway on the rough, brown shaggy carpet. I'm still wearing the Superman costume and even though I'm clearly at my Grandma's house, there are still little reminders, little hints of the Mexican restaurant.
Turner Stires, a former coworker of mine at the EZ Rider Cafe walks in my Grandma's front door and kneels down beside me, greeting an old friend, and goes to kiss my cheek like the British do and we have an awkward moment trying to figure out the correct and traditional custom.
Then I wake up.