Shots all around

I dreamed some friends from the job and I were in an infamous roadside eatery here, Rutt's Hut. We had been eating pizza, which was not on the menu, to my knowledge, and it seemed to be a kind of farewell party as I was leaving for another gig. We were discussing, theoretically, that we would go out for drinks later, and that they would pick up the bill now while I would buy drinks later (I don't drink much, generally, in the waking world, except for the occasional glass of wine). The rumble of the highway outside. The place was starkly white and illuminated, like a diner. The waitress, a woman from Latvia, appeared suddenly with shot glasses, without being asked, and set them up for us. What will it be? She asked. I looked around at confused and somewhat anxious faces. Fernet, I told her, and she turned and drifted back towards the bar.