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A Karmatic Violation

January 18, 2012

I’m often told, “Only you Dan, that would only happen to you” – well, tonight I found myself saying the same exact same thing to myself.

I arrived home last night at 1AM.  Having not slept in my bed for 28 of the past 30 nights there was a great feeling of relief and anticipation as I walked up the stairs to my room.  I opened the door and was greeted by an odd blue flickering light …I muttered aloud “Oh what the hell”  directed at my own stupidity for having left my computer monitor on for so long –  Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

My self-flagellation woke an unexpected young female sleeping in my bed.  Reciprocating my surprise, she sprung up..naked and profusely “Oh no, I’m sorry, Oh… I’m sorry I’m sorry, Oh crap,  I’m just  so..”

“Wha…. Huh….”  There were no words – The space was a mess, floor  littered with clothes, empty bottles and smell of wet dog – despite having a naked stranger in my room I felt shame for having left the place in such ruins.

Wait a minute, these are not my clothes – These are panties, bras, hairdryers, etc.

She was talking fast saying the same thing, “Oh I am so embarrassed, I am sorry, I am so sorry”.  I was in a daze, reacting far too casually,  I wheeled my luggage over into my closet, and began to remove and sort my dirty laundry from inside my the suitcases I actually heard myself say, “It’s OK, really….don’t worry about it”.

This was all so surreal, every where I looked I could recognize my things but they were out of place, and co-mingled with her shit – her shit was everywhere! So much of it!  WHO WAS SHE?

“HEY! so… WHAT’S GOING ON?”

She was now wearing a long shirt – MY LONG SHIRT, still apologizing and gradually introducing new information.  Her name was Bridgette, she is 24, and is my new housemate who moved in right as I was leaving “….remember you waved to me and said “Hey” that one time”:  and that she works at Trader Joe’s – where she gets a 10% employee discount, which we both agreed was a bit stingy.

Bridgette apparently asked where’s the guy with the Saab and since no one seemed to know where I went or when I might return so she took it upon herself to start watching Netflix in my room at night (because she didn’t have a TV), began sleeping in my bed, enjoyed a couple hot tubs (both solo and with friends, “I hope you don’t mind I had a couple of people over for New Years”), burned my soy candles to the nub and shaved her legs in my shower. However she had no idea why there might be an empty bottle of honey flavored Jack Daniels  in my shoe rack.

I was numb – not yet angry, not yet violated, perhaps a little bit disappointed as I began to realize that this was really happening – in a I’m going to have to clean this all up myself sort of way not in a swanky Penthouse Letters sort of way.

My thoughts as I drifted to sleep were empathetic.  I felt a kinship with women who come home early from a trip only to find a naked woman sleeping in their bed.

The bright side of this fiasco is that it brings closure to the great Netflix mystery.  Over the past couple of months each time I’ve logged in to Netflix there have been a glut of shitty movies showing up in my “Recently Watched List” for the life of me I could not remember watching three full seasons of That 70’s Show.

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One comment

  1. This did not really happen….this is that 15% right? I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts



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