the sweetest tongue

I’m Such a Fag. (part 2)

Monday, January 2nd, 2006 | faggy tendencies

I’m sorry about the cliffhanger, but someone came knocking on my door, and I had to go check on gentlemen callers.

Back to the story….

I was walking around the living room and kitchen surveying the area, when I heard a noise from the bathroom. I went up to the door, and asked who was there. I tried to open the door, but it was locked. The first thought I had was that Scott, the roommate who was moving out, had collapsed while in the process of moving. He had been hospitalized before due to his blood sugar (he is diabetic), so I grabbed the skeleton key, and tried to open the door.

When the door kept locking itself after I tried to unlock it, I called for the Princess to come upstairs as I tried to force the door open. When I finally managed to get it unlocked and open, I saw that it was two individuals behind the door trying to keep it closed. They kept saying “We’re playing a trick on you! We’re playing a trick on you!” As they tried to keep the door closed. I managed to push myself into the bathroom, and a minor scuffle ensued inside. I managed to turn the light on for a few seconds, and recognized them as two gaysian individuals, which really threw me off, and just confused me more.

I had gaysian intruders at my house!

After they managed to calm me down since at one point I had my hands on both their necks, and we all got out of the bathroom, so they could explain themselves. They sketchily explained that they came to the house to look for Scott, the roommate who moved out, because he owed them a lot of money. Someone told them that Scott would be in the house at this time. When asked how they got in (there was no forced entry), they said that the door was unlocked, and that they were there for only a short time.

The whole time, I was aware that they were slowly trying to inch their way towards the stairs, so I blocked them. I was already stressed out about the dinner party, and having these intruders already started to frazzle my mind and logic. I tried to contact Scott, and found that the number he provided me was a wrong number. The story got sketchier in my head. I was freaking out at this point.

In the process of trying to extract their copy of Scott’s number, I wanted one of them to bring me to their car. Not being in the most clear-thinking state of mind, I thought nothing of having them both follow me downstairs, where once the door was open, they both bolted in opposite directions. I chased one of them towards the open (!) gates, and as he outran me, I saw a car (bronze-cream compact car) being driven by the other person coming towards me. I managed to get aside, and the car only hit my arm, but they got away, and it was too dark to make out their license plate number.

At this point, I was at the end of my rope as I managed to contact the police. I was freaking out as I gave them my address and situation, and by the time I got back home, I was already on the verge of tears.

The police came. We filed a report. I called Spencer in Las Vegas, and The Princess kept everything under control and kept a clear mind when I could not. He kept me company overnight, and helped me change the locks the next day.

I cried that night not just because I just had something weird, strange, and almost deadly happen to me, but also because I had a dinner party in less than 24 hours, and I needed a clear mind to plan and prepare. And that, my friends, is why I’m such a fag.

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