I was in a bazaar eating lunch with my parents and brother. Vary busy place. Middle eastern feel.
Something about a waitress across the way checking me out. She was vaguely familiar. Dressed in a Thunderbird costume perhaps?
Something about a steakhouse where I had eaten before. Possibly for a previous birthday shindig of dad’s.
The dream then morphed and I was supposedly married (or the main character was at least) to some skanky skiny blonde thing. One of my friend’s wives was much more preferable, being of an athletic build and she looked tasty with her tight grey top, jeans and short bob. Much flirting ensued.