Nocturnal Omission

I was frantically running down an outdoor parking structure type spiral stairwell in an anti clockwise direction.  Frantic to either get away from the labyrinth like house or urgently searching for someone I simply had to find, it wasn't quite clear to me.
I felt a twinge of relief when I recognized the male figure further ahead of my path as the director Sam Raimi.  He had heard the loud echos of my footsteps and panting and was bracing himself, back against the metal banister, looking up to see what the source of all the chaos careening down upon him was.

He seemed pleasantly surprised as I approached to witness my small frame, but the closer I got to him I noticed his expression shift from one of benevolent amusement to paternal concern to then settling into utter bewilderment. "Slow down! Running won't get you there any faster" he said.  

I had to stop when I reached him because he was now deliberately blocking my path. I redirected my trance like gaze from my feet and the steps below me heavenward, and onto his face.  He looked aghast and grabbed my left wrist. "Why aren't you wearing a wedding band?!" he exclaimed.  I followed his gaze and looked back down to make the even more alarming discovery that I was in fact naked. 

I scrambled for an explanation to redirect his question and justify my urgency but all that came out of my mouth was an hysterical "You should produce a TV series based on the movie 'Westworld'.  Please, It's important." 
I tried to yank my hand away from his determined grip but he wouldn't let me go. 
He said in further astonishment "Kathy, you're not even wearing an engagement ring" I started to cry out of frustration "So what!" I shouted.  He released me from his clutch and I pushed passed him with my head down to focus again on building up the maniacal running pace.  He purposefully called out after me through his widespread palms, thumbs cupping his jawline "I'LL TALK TO THE PEOPLE AT FX"