Anyway, I was just walking out my door to go to the bodega, and at the last second, as the door shut behind me, I panicked quickly and checked to see if I had my keys, as both of my half-centuried roommates aren't home. Don't worry, I had my keys.
But then as I started thinking about how my room is right next to the front door to the loft where I was now standing, and how funny would it be if someone DID somehow get through from the roof and into my room and, realizing I was standing helplessly on the other side of the door only a few feet away, not only TOOK my shit, but ANNOUNCED what he was taking it as her was taking it?
"I've got your tv...oh, that'll be nice to watch shows on...I'm taking your Leave Home signed by all four original Ramones..."
Then he starts to heckle me. "This is it? You have ANYthing worth a shit, dude? What the fuck?" And at this point I'm insulted, and start pointing stuff out for him to take. "In the corner, by the bookcasees, my Telecaster!" "Dude, it looks like a beaver got it. It's fucking worthless," and on and on. The burglar pointing out how worthless my life is up to this point as I stand there like an asshole.
Of course, I'd have my phone, so I could quickly call the cops. So....they would nab the guy. Pretty quickly. Prolly waiting for him as he climbed down from the roof, actually. I'd get my stuff back, probably in the same amount of time that woulda passed had I simply walked to the bodega and back in the first place. So...I don't really know what the whole point of this whole thing was even all about. Hmm.
See what the FUCK happens when softball season's over? Sunday night, 8pm and instead of being passed out nicely, cuddled up in bed with some fresh lady-smack hand marks on my face, I'm sitting around thinking of this shit. What the fuck?
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