I'm standing outside a plain wood cabin with a pretty-eyed man, and his father. I'm on a date with him even though he's my friend Annie's boyfriend. That discomfits me, but the feeling abates as I grow to like him more every minute. He's got our date planned out, but first we both want to find a restroom. He says he knows of one, and that he's going to blindfold me and lead me there. When the blindfold comes off, I'm in a filthy bathroom next to him. When I'm washing my hands, a woman beside me is complaining madly about the facility's state.
In the car with my date, I stare openly at his wildly attractive salt and pepper hair while we're parked in a lot. He gets out of the car to get something, and I start primping frantically, because I'm insecure about how much more attractive he is than I. For some reason, from the passenger seat I take off the parking brake, knowing the car will roll. It starts moving toward a brand new luxury car, a Bentley perhaps, and I try to reach the brake pedal to stop the car. I can't reach it, so the cars collide.
I hop into the driver's seat to make my getaway, pursued by the Bentley's owner. Pulling out into a dangerous roadway, I almost cause about nine more accidents. Dusk falls immediately, and I put on ultra-bright headlights and drive faster. Soon I'm trailing inches from an extremely tall and professional-looking cyclist. I know I'm dangerously close, but I don't slow down. I hit him too. There's a terrible crunching noise, but he remains upright and just looks cross. Instantly, sirens are wailing behind me and and I start to pull over. I can't control the car, and I'm hitting rocks and trees and swerving. As I come to rest in a safer place I have the feeling that I've just given up everything; it's all over.Morning came, and the construction starts on the street outside. I wake up, you're behind me, and I can feel your breath on my back like a vaguely annoying insect. Then I'm dreaming again.
It's dark now, we're lying the same way, and we know this tiny room is haunted. You're somewhat comforting but mostly scared. The voice starts and sounds like a female commercial announcer with a insecure undertone. "I want to be just like you." Then softer and raspy: "You are pathetic." The messages repeat, ringing in our ears nearly to the point of pain. Your arms tighten and you tell me to ignore it. It occurs to me that I'll never sleep if it doesn't stop.