What do you say when you have been idiotic enough to mention in passing to a casual friend the fact that you had a dream about him last night — and you are naturally very careful not to mention the fact that in this dream, he was primarily and enthusiastically engaged in some very unwholesome, but don’t get me wrong very enjoyable behavior involving really just the two of you and perhaps also a rocking chair and also a terrific amount of sweat and panting and exertion — and really this was probably the most porntastic dream you have had in years, and it was sort of great and sort of mystifying, because you don’t have even the faintest glimmer of a crush on the guy, which makes it even worse and much much better, somehow — so anyway through some cruel happenstance you see him at a gathering that very night when the taut, tensing muscles of his dream-shoulders are still rippling ecstatically under your fluttering dream-fingertips, as it were, and because you are a nitwit of the highest order you cannot restrain yourself from saying something like:
oh ha ha I had a funny dream about you last night
and he, quite reasonably, replies:
Oh? What was I doing?
What, then, O Sage, do you say?
Apparently, you stammer something remarkably like the following:
You were… uh… hugging… muh… PEOPLE… a lot! All over!
You were… uh… very… HAPPY!
And then maybe you sort of run.