Crazy Rubber Band Man  I'm at home on New Year's Eve. There are two bedrooms on the main level: one is where the bathroom actually is. I'm in a bed on the west side of the dark room with my head pointing north. A woman enters accompanied by someone who tells her she can sleep in the bed with me. I know her: she is _____ (unclear). She is a relatively large person. I don't want to sleep in the same bed as her. I have just ejaculated on the sheets. I get up to sleep upstairs. The woman comments on how dirty and bad-smelling the bed is when she gets in it. I laugh. It's a pretty dirty bed, but I'm used to it: it's worn in, and I don't mind at all. I don't care if she doesn't like it. I'm in the bathroom. I'm naked and have a pink towel with fringed edges (from home) wrapped around my waist. I hear a noise outside. I run out the back door in the towel. I see a young woman with long straight brown hair, who was in my Philosophy of Psychology and Experimentation and Statistics classes with me, standing under the light near the back door. There is a lean and strong shirtless black man standing near the garage door. His skin is not too dark: reddish. He's holding a rubber band. His muscles are tensed. The rubber band may be stretched. He seems crazy or intense, almost in frenzy. Quickly I get others and myself in the house. I lock the back, front, and garage doors. I'm in frenzy. Someone calls 911. We're trying to keep the man out. Then the man is inside. Others or I tie him up with dental floss.