Long Story Short ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Poker Night (from hell) You know I don't think I've talked too much about the infamous poker night. Every Wednesday night since January has been Poker Night for the second floor crew. My second-floor neighbors invite over their unemployed stoner (short) friends, they all sit around and drink heavily and smoke weed, and along the way some poker gets played. I have been invited every week since the beginning and never once have I agreed to participate. For one thing, it's Wednesday night. I have to get up early and even though I enjoy poker it just seems like more of a drinking party than a card game. But to each his own and at first I enjoyed the fact that I lived in such a friendly, social house. But you know what? Poker night sucks. As the summer has progressed the game has been moved onto the back deck. And perhaps I've mentioned this before but I have only back exits from my apartment. And you know what else I have? A dog. A dog that needs to be taken out every few hours to go to the bathroom. Especially late at night when I'm about to go to sleep. Guess how fun it is to stumble sleepily down two flights of stairs at 11pm in my pajamas and run into anywhere from 5 to 15 drunk guys? It's really fun. So I've put up with it without complaint for months because I just keep telling myself that I'll be out of there soon. But three poker nights ago (am I really measuring my life by poker night?) I sort of lost it. Professor K and I were laying on my bed on top of the covers, no clothes on because we had just (and I do mean JUST) had some yummy sex. It was warm and we were just about to start shutting lights off to go to sleep. When all of a sudden the refrigerator door opened. Bailey had been barking strangely but she barks at nothing all the time so we had been ignoring her. When the fridge opened my first thought was that it had opened on its own. Not so much. It was one of my neighbor's drunkass friends! He had gotten confused and come up to our apartment by accident to get a beer. And as I bolted into the bathroom to hide I heard him asking Professor K "is this Todd's apartment?" The Professor replied "No, it's not" and the guy left - WITH the beer that he had just taken from my fridge. I came out of the bathroom and asked "did that really just happen?" Professor K looked irritated but suggested that we just lock the doors. Oh fuck no. I started scrambling to put my clothes on, literally shaking with anger. How dare someone do that to us? And I didn't blame the friend, I blamed the neighbor - it is his responsibility to make sure that his friends don't bother the other tenants. Especially the tenants that pay twice as much rent, but that's not really the point. I ran downstairs with no contact lenses in down to the basement where the guys were clearly aware of what had just happened. "Hi Carly" one of them said. I said "Who just came up to my apartment?" and they explained that it was one of Todd's friends. I ended up running back upstairs, confronting Todd, and asking for an apology. So he had his friend apologize to me. And then I felt dumb because I didn't really blame the friend. The problem was that I was too angry to really put into words how I felt. I needed some time to think about WHY I was so angry. I felt violated and unsafe in my own house. At any time some random idiot could wander in unannounced. I know, I could just lock my doors. But guess what? I shouldn't have to deadbolt every door to insure that strangers don't come into my apartment unannounced! And it wouldn't have been such a big deal if this hadn't happened before. On another occasion someone came in at 4am while I was sleeping! And on several occasions friends of theirs would come up to "socialize" with me, meaning hit on me and basically harass the shit out of me until they got drunk enough to go vomit or pass out. Every one of the people in the second floor apartment is older than me by at least four years. But it feels like a college dorm. Just walking up to the deck you are immediately struck by the overwhelming stench of cigarettes because there is a huge Folgers can full of butts that just gets left on the deck. Not to mention the hundreds of butts that litter the steps, deck itself, and driveway. Last Wednesday, as I believe I mentioned, I had to face yet another gauntlet of drunkenness. I was with Professor K and Bailey and we just wanted to take the dog for a walk and get the mail. I was tipsy from too much wine and feeling relaxed from Dave and incense and no lights. And it was shattered by the obnoxiousness of my awful neighbors. It sent me into a serious "I hate this place, I have to get out of here" whining spell. Have I mentioned that I can't wait to move? This is one of the huge contributing factors to my excitement about moving. New house, new neighbors, no poker night! Bailey can come and go as she pleases and not feel threatened, I can go outside in my PJ's at 11pm and not be harassed, and Professor K and I can live quietly and peacefully and not be made to feel lame for our lack of drunken escapades. Ah, glory! I wonder what I'll have to bitch about in September? Something to look forward to! 10:06 a.m. - 2004-08-11 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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