No Relation to the Director

I had a dream last night that my friend Liz, who’s getting married in a couple of weeks, sent me on an errand to find a bridesmaid’s dress to wear. She said she’d seen this Absolutely Perfect dress at a vintage shop and she wanted me to wear it.
“But I’m not in your wedding, Liz,” I told her (she and her fiance aren’t having a bridal party at all). She said she didn’t care, I had to get this dress.

She described it to me in detail, but once I arrived at the shop, I kept forgetting what she’d said it looked like. I looked around for a long time, and every time I saw something that looked like what she wanted, I’d forget even more information. The guy who owned the place, whose name apparently was Brett Ratner, came up and introduced himself. He said his name was a coincidence and he was not the guy who directed the X-Men movies. He said it to me several times.

Brett Ratner tried to help me find the dress Liz had described but we had no luck. Instead, he suggested, why didn’t I go for a ride with him in his car? He’d really like to introduce me to his daughter, he told me. I thought this was a little odd, but went along with it. It turns out Brett lived about seven hours away, in a town the name of which I forgot upon waking up, but recall was a really funny-sounding name for a town.

I fell asleep in the car and, when I woke up (in the dream), we were at his house but it was really late. He hadn’t told me how far away he lived and this pissed me off. “I have to be at work really early! You’ve got to turn around right now!” I yelled at him.
He told me he could, but he also thought I’d like to know that when I was asleep, he’d had sex with me. I didn’t say anything for a minute, but was horrified. Finally, I asked “Have you ever tested positive for any sexually transmitted diseases or infections?” And I asked it just like that.

Brett sat for a minute, thinking, then shrugged and sort of put out his hands like aw-shucks and said “Well, HIV.”

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