Sunday, July 17, 2005

Girls, Interrupted

1&2. I forgot about housemates - it's been so long since we've lived in a dorm. When engaging in actions which offer the option of certain statements of private nature, I never expect the knock at the door, quietly asking how hot my laundry gets dried.

And the next morning. After a while, quite a while, I realized the door was partly ajar. During a break, I got up to shut it and found my other housemate seated outside. There was banging downstairs, so she phoned from my hallway, and kept on talking right through my surprise.

3. In a loud corner of an overrated restaurant, Alexis watched me suck down oysters. Hand on my thigh, eyes locked with mine, when the waiter loudly asked if we'd decided on dinner. Poor, poor service.

4. For the umpteenth time, we got caught in a downpour - this time with shelter, others times without. In a glass and brick walkway, pressed firmly against it, one arm blocks egress, the other one, well... I acknowledge it's public, but regular people wouldn't chose this time to ask us for donations.

(Almost as bad, but never as funny (or forgivable) as Cyrus calling us in our jacuzzi suite on the ocean from 684 miles ask for the phone number of the Papa Johns around the corner from him in Ann Arbor.)