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And more importantly...is it clean?
So, when I first moved to my little chateau of love with my fiance, Peter, we had some pretty interesting neighbors.
His name was Dino, a self-proclaimed man's man with ties to the Mob. You see this shoe horn...this means something from the world that I come from... No one can mess with me when I wear this...
He had three teeth and they all were tightly nestled into the space in the front where only two should be. And he always had beer. Thank God for that! Miller Genuine Draft...my beer of choice.(I can't help but wonder if maybe he hadn't noticed the discarded boxes that rested inside the garbage...hell! I can't help but wonder if he wasn't going through our garbage!)
So, one night I was all alone and on the computer writing when I hear the ominous footsteps of my neighbor downstairs heading up towards my door.
I did a quick check to make sure a)am I wearing a bra? b)Are there any holes in my pants that I should be aware of? and c)Is the door locked?
Then came the knock at the door...Now, I don't care if you live in an apartment building with one or two thousand people...you have roommates. If you have to walk to a central place to do your laundry and everyone has the chance to see what's in your basket...you've just shown it to your roommates.
I got up and answered the door and there was my roommate from downstairs holding my basket of laundry....folded...nice and neat. Now, I know that I didn't have an out-of-body experience and go downstairs to fold my laundry which leaves only one person that did...three-toothed man.
I smile and accept the basket from him, all the while I am wondering...Were those the whites? I hope to god those weren't the whites? Because if they were...you guessed it! all my undies had been touched and carefully folded by my roommate....
I mean, not that I really truly mind...for all I care, he could have sniffed them and put them on his head while he did an ancient tribal dance. I could have always have gone out and gotten new undies, but did he have to FOLD them?
The fact that he folded them is much more disturbing then the fact that he actually touched them....I mean...who folds their underwear?
I envision ex-military men folding their underwear, waiting for some mystery inspection that will never come amid the voices in their head that scream "The Sarge is coming! The Sarge is coming!"
Believe me, my mind was racing that night. Knives were being sharpened, candles around my picture were being lit, really bad poetry was being written, and bottles of beer were being consumed while Floyd was playing in the background...
Suffice it to say, Peter was not pleased and voiced his opinion to my roommate, Dino and my personal maid days were over.
But that was just the beginning.... Powered by AkoComment 2.0! |
