“Ughhhhh!” I'd wail, flopping onto the wicker chair on the
porch.
Sometimes I’d (attempt to) climb through the front window. Other
times I’d text my roommate about where she was. Sometimes I’d go back into my
friends’ car and go to their house.
Once, I was so frustrated that I rattled the handle thinking
it would somehow know me from a
burglar and automatically open its doors, lovingly.
“GOD...EFFING...D…!!!!” I yelled.
More frustrating than that, though, is being locked INSIDE
an apartment whose doors are also not opening lovingly for you.
Did I say frustrating? I mean nightmare.
This happened to my
friend Michelle last week, all thanks to the DUMB GUY she was dating.
Mark, the dumb guy, had just moved into an apartment in a hipster
part of town (“got to move in a week early! Yea!”) but it was a shithole. He
and Michelle dated for several months and they would often stay over at her comfortable
non-shithole.
For some reason, Mark wanted Michelle to sleep at his new
place the very night he got the key, with no furniture and no toothpaste. Ugh.
She frowned. She wanted her place. And his was freezing. But
as it got late, she said OK, fine, I’ll
stay and they were actually having a nice time until Marc got a call from
his friend asking to meet him at a bar.
The guy’s girlfriend had just dumped him and he was a mess. Michelle
saw an opportunity.
“Why don’t I go home and you can come to my house afterwards
because I live closer to the bar you need to go to,’” she offered.
And even though this was her SECOND verbal hesitation about
staying over, Marc ignored it.
He said he really
wanted to get comfortable staying at his new place; actually, he wanted BOTH of them to get comfortable at his
new place so he told her to stay, that he’d be back in an hour.
Since they were newly dating, she wanted to be chill and all,
so she told him goodnight and he left and locked the door.
The next thing she remembers is waking up with a start, as so
happens when sleeping in a new place…alone….and she looked at the clock. Marc
had been gone for FOUR hours.
Michelle called. No answer. Called again. Texted.
Texted. Did he forget about her?? Was he in jail???
His phone didn’t go straight to voicemail and she saw that
the texts she sent him were being marked as “delivered,” which was even more
infuriating.
So she decided to get
dressed and drive home. She had work the next day and it was 3:30 in the
morning.
That’s when she realized that the door was locked, and the
only key was in his pocket. Michelle looked around the apartment for the first
time from an escapee's point-of-view.
Security bars on all the windows. No key for the back door. She
was trapped!!! Inside!!! It was a total nightmare.
And…HELLO! FIRE HAZARD!
I, personally, would not do very well in that situation
considering how I felt about those Chilean miners a few years ago. I’d crack. I'd be so livid.
(P.S.
WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO THEM?? WHAT HAPPENED TO THEIR MOVIE DEAL???)
Anyway. Back to
Michelle.
She called and
texted Marc again with the news that uh, she
couldn’t leave his apartment, PLEASE CALL PLEASE COME BACK, but still
nothing in reply. She then became very aware that it wasn’t a good neighborhood.
Crying and panicky,
she stayed awake on alert plotting an emergency escape.
How early was too early to call Pop-a-Lock?? Wait, does Pop-a-Lock free
girlfriends from their boyfriend’s apartments??
She thought of
calling the cops if he wasn’t home by the time she had to get up and go to
work. Worst day of work ever when you spend the entire night awake on alert.
At 5:30 in the
morning, Marc stumbled in, wasted. No apology.
No, he said he didn’t
see her 34 phone calls or 15 text messages. He didn’t care about her state of
mind.
Instead of, "I'm so sorry I scared you so bad, how about some pancakes???" he just said, "Let's just go to sleep" and dismissed her suffering.
Then, he said, OMG: “I really want to get comfortable staying
here.”
Comfortable! Hahahahahahaa!
That was the absolute last thing Michelle felt in his prison house.
On the bright
side, after promptly leaving when she saw the open door, walking
into her own place with her own key was the most satisfying feeling ever.
And then, after Marc refused to acknowledge ANY wrongdoing on his part: "I don't know why you wake up so often at night! You should have just gone back to sleep!" (UGH), dumping him was equally as satisfying.
-Jenny
You totally make these up. While they are fun to read, you cant even keep your characters names spelled correctly, and no way in hell you have these many "friends" who just can't seem to find ONE single decent man to date. Fun fiction though.
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately, they are all true. If I messed up the spelling of a character's name, that's because I change names to remove the offending party. Sometimes coming up with fake names is the hardest part of writing these posts. THANKS FOR READING
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