So, it’s midnight, and I’m sitting on the couch listening to a wide-eyed Leisel tell me about the scary demon-ridden movie she saw at the theater that night; I eagerly try to top it with the creepy 48 Hours: Unsolved Mysteries episode I just watched (who KNOWS why) where a crazy lady lurked in a closet waiting for her prey before shooting them into bloody oblivion. Both of us don’t handle creepy well, so all this further creeping each other out is really just our twisted way of keeping each other awake so we don’t have to go to our respective beds/deaths for as long as possible. In the midst of our freaking each other out, we hear some suspiscious noises in my bathroom. We quickly take stock of my animals sitting in plain sight and conclude the noises are emanating from an unknown source. Fabulous.
Between Leisel’s demon delusions and my psychopath paranoia, added to the fact that our backyard is honestly a cemetery, neither of us are overly eager to discover the source of the disturbance. Hanging onto one another, and me (ever the courageous, self-sacrificing one) pushing Leisel ahead of me, we finally, slowly, peek around my bathroom door to discover water gushing out of my air vent. Hm. We watch it for a moment, relieved that neither a demon nor psychotic murderess are lurking in my tub splashing around in water (lalalalala!Thinkhappythings!), but also rather befuddled at the source of the flow. I call emergency maintenance as I place a large mixing bowl under the spray.
Now, I’m no plumber, but even I can deduce the water may be coming from the apartment above me. Since we can hear them stomping around on our ceiling and see a light on, Leisel and I provide the mutual moral support and encouragement needed to muster up the courage to knock on a neighbor’s door at midnight. Since we know this neighbor to be a kind father with two children, my only main concern is the possibility that he tries to protect his brood from late-night intruders by taking his shotgun and shooting us into bloody oblivion before he has the time to recognize us. Dangit, those crime shows really stick with me.
We knock timidly and hear a wary child (up way past his bedtime, by the way) call out to his father. Leisel and I look at each other and quickly try to reassess how important it is to disturb the neighbors in the middle of the night. I mean, my bathroom floor is some form of fake plastic tile, it’s not like there’s going to be excessive damage. I sense movement in the window and say aside to Leisel, “Oh, I think the kids are peeking through the window. Maybe we can wave and show them it’s us.” Without further ado, I wave enthusiastically at several inches of light peeking through the edge of the blinds… I’ll be honest, I don’t really remember what happened. Flashes of light. Then the millisecond it took for my synapses to fire properly and process the images before me… Oh, that’s not the kids, it’s the dadwetshowerskin… Then it was just a quick transition from eagerly waving to frantically shielding/poking my eyes out and screaming, “OH SHIT, HE’S NAKED!” Quickly and ingeniously followed by, “OH NO! I SAID THAT REALLY LOUD!”
And then I ran. I just tucked tail, eyes squeezed shut, legs pumping, face burning, arms flailing, and just flat out ran away, leaving Leisel in a panic at the door by herself.
I. am. a moron.
Neighbor, if I run into you outside and I turn the color of a tomato and try to disappear into the earth, please do not turn bright red, too. It makes it especially, especially awkward. And if we could stop suddenly running into each other around town, I might actually leave my room again one day.
Thank you and thatisall.