She walks right by you, slowly running her hand through your hair.
She stands behind you and runs her fingers over the outline of your shoulders.
You feel her breath in your ear.
"Ross..." she says seductively.
Ross?!
"It's me, Brad. I'm not Ross!"
"Ross, you are so hot."
What the hell is she talking about?
"Katie," you say, "look at me. I'm Brad. Brad!"
She begins rubbing her body against yours.
"Mmmmmmm... Ross."
"No! I'm not Ross!"
"Ross, Ross..."
"No! I'm Brad! ...I'm Brad! ...I'm Brad!"
You wake up in a pool of sweat, still shouting. At least it looks like sweat. Pretty much. Well, creamy sweat.
That's the 8th time this week you've had that dream!
Little Eva Papamagaritus stands by the door to the basement looking at you and giggling. Her lopsided 'fro glistens in the morning sunlight.