Chinatown
Where my memory begins, I was with a group of Asian people, Chinese or Vietnamese. We were outdoors in a Chinatown, a single street, but a long one. There were a lot of neon signs, and such, and a fair crowd of people. I was not Asian in this dream.
We were discussing a destination to meet in. It was decided we would meet at a chicken restaurant we all liked, a ways down this street. I was delayed by something, and intended to meet them there in a few minutes.
I walked down to the chicken restaurant, on the left side of the street. It was packed with people, and my friends were not there. I decided they must have gone instead to one of the other restaurants along the left side that might be less crowded. I checked a couple of them but my friends were not there.
In this dream I was carrying a heavy tool kit, a large gray plastic fishing tackle box. It had screws and other small stuff in the top trays, and tools below the trays. This is identical to the tool kit I have in waking life.
In the second restaurant I checked, I looked around and didn't see my friends. I picked up my tool kit by the handle at the top, and it fell open, dumping some of the stuff in the top trays. This has happened to me a couple times in waking life, when I forgot to close the latches before lifting it. In this case I hadn't opened it, so that's different.
I scooped the spilled stuff back in without attempting to organize it. I then turned to leave. A nice waitress lady had spotted a couple of things I had missed and brought them to me. I thanked her. One was a cross shaped faucet knob, similar to the ones in my waking shower, but all chrome rather than with ceramic arms.
I was now on the right side of the street. I had decided I wouldn't be able to find my friends in the confusion and crowds, and decided to find my car and go home. I picked up my kit and it spilled again. I scooped up the stuff that fell out and did my best to secure the latches.
I proceeded to an enclosed parking garage, where I was pretty sure my car was parked. The name above the entrance was familiar. It was mostly empty, but a few cars were there. None of them seemed to be mine. I think mine was a green Toyota, a car I've never owned in waking life. It must be noted that not being able to find my car in a place I was sure it had been parked is a distressingly frequent occurrence in the later part of my dreams.
I decided this may not be the right parking garage, and set out to go farther down the street to see if I could find a similar parking garage that had my car in it. At this time I started to wake up, certain I would not be able to find my car, as has so often happened.