Thursday, January 10, 2008

Tales from Apartment 208

So a little bit ago, I'm sitting at my computer naked, as I am wont to do for anywhere from five minutes to several hours after I take a shower. That's not really important to the story, but I just wanted you to know that I was here rockin' out in a blue towel (around my body) and a green towel (around my hair).

My roommate knocks softly on my door. "Rooooommate?" she calls.

(Sidenote: Most of you probably know this, but my same-named domestic parter and I often just call each other "Roommate." That's how she's listed in my phone, etc. It's just easier that way.)

"I got something for you at home!" she says, holding up a black unmarked bag. I don't like where this is going. It kind of reminds me of my run-in with Retarded Steve at the STA Plaza, a story which I might re-tell on here sometime, although I've told it so many times I'm a little sick of it by now. But anyway. I take the bag from her and reach in and feel around for a few seconds, trying to figure out what it is before I pull the object out.

It's a long rectangular box. Inside I can feel that there is something long and cylindrical.


Okay, so let's not draw this out any longer. Turns out that the 11-inch vibrator was purchased by a drunk friend on New Year's Eve and given to Roommate as a gift; no amount of protesting could dissuade this drunk gift-giver. So now we're stuck with this rather expensive ($40) toy which neither of us needs (if you know what I mean... and I think you do), not to mention the fact that it's unnecessarily huge. What are we supposed to do with it? Selling it seems a little skeevy. Everyone we know either a.) has a boyfriend with whom she is having regular sex, or b.) has a little friend of her own. We're open to suggestions.