Two days late...I know, I know. Slacking after just one week. But Tuesday ended up being ridiculously crazy at work -- amazingly Temp Asst. did not screw up EVERYTHING yesterday, maybe just 40% of it. The it was home late to pack and get ready for the ride that would pick me up for the airport at an hour I do not think I have ever been physically awake at. Then yesterday was filled with travel, subsequent travel frustrations, and then capped off with a fantastic dinner with friends. I did draft this on the plane yesterday, hopefully that doesn't make me a TOTAL slacker. So sorry bout that everybody!
So let's see....why don't we go with I.N. for this week's installment. I met I.N. when I was living in Baltimore. My roommate at the time and I used to hang out a lot near our house in Canton Square. I think the Square may be the only think I miss about living in Baltimore -- it was a real cute little neighborhood with low key bars with good food, good times and cheap drinks, the trifecta. These were the days of youth and frivolity where you'd meet random cute guys out at a bar and then end up hosting a late night party back on our roof top deck. Okay, only OTHER thing I miss about Baltimore is my rooftop deck.
So I.N. and I started dating -- nothing serious, just fun. I feel like that happens more often in the summertime, you sort of both don't think it may get to be something serious, but both people are content to just have fun and enjoy each other's company for the summer months.
Anyway, I.N. lived just north of the city so it wouldn't be uncommon for us to be out in Baltimore and for him to stay at my house. He also played in some sports league...seriously I can't remember if it was softball or kickball or what, but lots of times he would come stay over when his game ran late.
Or when the "after the game" celebrations ran late, as was the case this one night. He showed up at the back of the house, banging on the door to be let in. This was not endearing or cute...this was annoying and irritating. I let him in, already knowing he was going to be Drunk with a capital D.
As most drunk people are wont to do, he started rummaging around the kitchen trying to find something to eat. I left him alone for just about 5 minutes, I think I ran upstairs for something. When I came back to the kitchen, he had fixed himself two hot pockets and was enjoying them standing up. With one foot hiked up on one of our kitchen stools (a la Captain Morgan). And he had stripped completely naked. Buck naked eating hot pockets in my kitchen.
A few thoughts should come to mind here.
One, while it may have looked sexy in 9 1/2 weeks, sometimes food ceases to be sexy when it is something that can be messy.
Two, drunk people rarely look good eating while they are CLOTHED let alone in the buff. I mean have you ever been sober at Jumbo Slice in DC at 2am? It's like feeding time at the zoo. Except all the animals are drunk out of their mind and smell like Red Bull and disappointment.
And three...the contents of hot pockets tend to, well ooze. And the insides can be hot, like lava hot. I don't think anyone would want that dripping on their skin, let alone their swimsuit area.
Anyway, this week's Tales from the Trenches Tuesday has been brought to you by the letters "I" and "N"...for Inappropriate Nakedness.