At a swanky bar serving chilled little bottles of white wine, I was about to talk to a Latina waitress who looked like the sidekick of Dwayne Johnson in Furious 7 when my son wakes me up, saying why are you still sleeping, Daddy? It's about 5 P.M. I told the waitress we'll talk about work--but as soon as I said that her face scrunched a bit--so I said I meant anything but work. Then I woke up and remembered my dream: for an internal event at my former work in the ad agency I was in a film-viewing about a compendium of stunts and scenes from different films, and that the only thread binding them together was that it was made in a single modern house, glass and metal and minimal, a bit like a documentary. Our Creative Director was there, our Strat, a couple of Creatives. Outside were booths, one of which serve good cold-brewed coffee at Nishiko (and I had to ask where?) in Navotas, of all places. The owner's mom was manning the booth, and upon learning that I'm currently working for a non-profit organization she mentioned that her son invested for five years in one of our Shakespeare-related campaigns. Really? A hundred thousand pesos, to be exact, she said. He was just nuts about it, she said.