I'd call the mental institution.
"Hi, yes. Are you familiar with the actor Ralph Fiennes? Well, I'm at the club, you know, the one on 6th St? Yeah, that one. Well, Ralph just walked by me, got a pervy grin on his face, did a downward sort of slap into the air a few feet away from me, and then looked at me and said, "nice girl you got" and walked away. I mean, I was imagining there was a girl with me to help combat my lonely existence, but he couldn't know that, so I'm worried he legit thought someone was there. Clearly he needs some help.
Also, I might need to check in, I hate clubs and yet somehow I have found myself in one with no logical explanation. I guess I must have randomly lost time, blacked out, etc., which is concerning. Oh, you can pick us both up? Fantastic."