As I was replying to a message from one of you lucky corresponders last
\nnight, my hostess came and tapped me on the shoulder. She had to perform
\nthis motion because I had my earphones on listening to George Winston at a
\nrather high volume because there was some “light” jazz junk on in the room
\nand I hate “light” junk. Perhaps because it reminds me of waiting in waiting
\nrooms to see doctors or dentists. Not that I don’t like doctors or dentists,
\nI just don’t enjoy the inevitable wait for them.<\/p>\n
So as George Winston was drowning out whatever “light” junk that happened to
\nbe playing, I felt my hostess try to convey something to me. Removing my
\nearphones, I heard her say, “Alice isn’t home yet, so don’t turn out the
\nlights or lock the door or anything.”<\/p>\n
“Okay,” I said as I put the headphones back on. I hadn’t been planning on
\nlocking the door anyway, but now I’d be sure NOT to. Alice, btw, is my
\nfloormate. She has a bedroom at the opposite end of the upstairs. We see
\neach other occasionally, but not too much. Alice seems like a very sweet
\nperson, which makes me very uncomfortable. For some reason, obnoxious people
\nappeal to me much more, until I get to know them and learn to hate their
\nguts. “Nice” people make me ill at ease. I’m constantly worried I’m going
\nto say something insensitive or rude or offend them in some way. I can hold
\nmy own at insults, cutting wit, or perverting statements, but be nice back?
\n [shudder]<\/p>\n
Alice also has this really sweet voice, which makes me laugh whenever I
\noverhear her saying “Oh, dammit!” though I doubt she knows I’m in earshot.
\n During most of the conversations we have, she’ll just be polite. “How are
\nyou?” she’ll ask. “Fine,” I say, since I’m afraid anything unorthodox will
\ncause offense somehow. Then there will be an uncomfortable silence in which
\nI’ll smile and leave or just stand there until Alice says something like,
\n“Wow.” She has a tendency to say that whenever words run out. And since I’m
\nnot exactly a conversation wiz, she has the opportunity to say it a lot.
\n “Wow.”<\/p>\n
By the time I was getting ready for bed last night, she still hadn’t returned
\nhome. Not that I was concerned. She comes home late from time to time, and
\nI greet her if I see her. In the meantime I brushed my teeth and put in my
\nretainer and TMJ splint. Then I dumped some mouthwash in and went to change
\ninto my pj’s, swishing the stuff around in my mouth.<\/p>\n
At this point, an alarm clock went off in Alice’s room. Why it was going off
\nat that time of night, I don’t know, but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to
\ngo to sleep with it blaring down the hall. Not that it was that loud, but
\nthere’s just something contrary to the laws of nature when it comes to GOING
\nto SLEEP while an alarm clock, no matter how far away, if still audible, is
\nbeeping. My alarm clock at home will beep for an hour before shutting up,
\nand I certainly didn’t want to wait that long. No telling when my fellow
\nboarder would show up, so I went into her room to shut it off.<\/p>\n
I’d never been in her room before. It’s at the head of the stairs, so I’d
\nventured a couple of glances inside at her habitually unmade bed from time to
\ntime but never set foot inside. It took me a while to find the clock. I
\nfollowed the beeping to the bedside table, but the clock was invisible. I
\nfinally spotted it UNDER the bed, pulled it out, and hit something that
\nlooked like OFF. Just then, I heard the door slam. Alice was home. Her
\nfeet sounded on the stairs. And I was in HER room. It’s not like she’s got
\na big sign on the door that reads, “KEEP OUT ON PAIN OF DEATH” or anything
\nlike that, but still, to come home and find someone messing around in your
\nroom… it’s just… well, you know. So I shoved the clock back UNDER the
\nbed and got to the doorway of the room the same time Alice did. Our eyes
\nlocked. She looked tired and surprised but simply said something like, “Oh,
\nhi.”<\/p>\n
My mouth was still full of mouthwash, the retainer, and the TMJ splint.
\n Speaking was quite difficult, but I somehow mananged to get out, “Uh, your
\nalarm clock went off, so I turned it off.”<\/p>\n
“Oh, thanks,” Alice replied. “Wow.”<\/p>\n
I stopped in at the bathroom on my way to bed to spit.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
As I was replying to a message from one of you lucky corresponders last night, my hostess came and tapped me on the shoulder. She had to perform this motion because I had my earphones on listening to George Winston at a rather high volume because there was some “light” jazz junk on in the…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-471","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-nonclassified-nonsense"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/471","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=471"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/471\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=471"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=471"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=471"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}