dan (dan501) wrote,

fortune smiles upon me - sort of

I'm on the piece of old church which serves as my bed. I'm inhaling a faint southerly breeze. I'm naked and above the sheets. it's 4:44 am (I must be lonely).

"hello?" quoth I to whoever woke me up.
the guy did what any normal guy does when he wakes up a sleeping naked guy at 4:44 am... he said "oh shit," his point flopped over, and he split. actually, there were two of the hims. they both split. I only got a half decent look at one of them. and even that was not a very decent half look. maybe an eighth of a look? I mean, I was roused from a dreamy slumber to look up, from my back, at some guy standing less than a meter away from me.

I know that my roommate's bathroom is in some state of disrepair. and I know it's not uncommon for her to have guests at all hours. so I figured her friends needed to use the bathroom, didn't think much of it, and went back to sleep.

this morning, unlike most mornings, my roommate and I happened to talk together. I asked her who her friends from last night happened to be and what they wanted with my bathroom. the first indication of trouble, other than the two guys in my room last night at 4:44 am while I was naked, was the blank stare with which she replied.

we sherlock holmes for a couple of minutes making sure that we were both talkin' the same language and that we were sure that neither of us knew the 4:44 am intruder. I felt like berserk - "intruder alert! intruder alert!"

we looked about the apartment. we noticed a cd in the middle of the living room floor. exhibit A:

abba? they took an abba cd? I mean, I know they saw me naked and all, but it hadn't occurred to me that homosexuals could have robbed our place.

the glass door to the entertainment center had been opened.

again with the Gay Thief Theory...

before we realized what was going on, I picked up the hedwig cd. no useful fingerprints there for sure. at least they didn't take the simpsons.

well, according to exhibit d they most certainly are not gay. I mean, look at that greasy messy smudgey hand print they left on the wall.

then I noticed angela's keys not being in their key spot. we marched down to the garage to not find her car. let us consider the gay evidence thus far:
gay cd taken
gay dvd taken
gay car (honda del sol) taken
gay observation of naked sleeping dan.
if it weren't for that dirty dirty hand print, I'd put out an apb for big gay al.

there's two bright and shining parts here that pertain to fortune smiling upon me. first and foremost - I'm still alive. there's all sorts of things one can do to a naked person as they JUST reveille. particularly when the naked sleeping person is a man who gives off the same kind of adonis-like glow that I exude when I sleep and the one in question is two gay men. I mean, TONS of things to do - some friendly and some not so friendly. fortune smiled upon me when I got neither.

the second is that I forgot to bring the burning man trampoline to hawthorne on saturday. that meant that last night I borrowed my mom's van to bring the trampoline to hawthorne. now, angela and I park tandem. so we have matching alarm systems and we each have each others' car key on our key ring. that means that due to the trampoline courier service, rather than my car being chopshopped this morning, it was sitting "say fanapoli" in my parents garage while my mom's van was stationed out front of my place.

we called landlords, cops, families. I went to work. the cops showed up here in little less than chalfa hour. color me impressed. unfortunately, all I could do is describe half of LA to the cops: hispanic, a little shorter than average, short straight (straight!?) black hair, skinny, short straight (straight!?) mustache, sports jersey shirt. remember the angle and the state of mind from which I viewed the perps. I asked if I could take a picture with the cops - they both said no. fuckers. they also said that the finger print duster guys would be here some time. that we should touch as little as possible until then.

some time?

you know how you're kind of grumbley when the phone company guy gives you a 3 hour window? like he'll show up some time between noon and 3 - so you've got to be home for hours. well the phone company guy's got nothing on the finger print duster guy. we have a 3 day window for him. dude. so we're instructed to not touch anything in our apartment for the next some days. in other news... I have to cancel the art gallery which was to be held here tonight.

I'd further like to add: never done that before
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