Friday, March 2, 2007

If you can't say no I feel your pain

This time it’s having a flatmate who knocks on my bedroom door at 4am,
waking me up,
then pulls back the duvet,
jumps into bed with me,
hugs me tight,
and doesn’t leave until I’ve asked him to do so seven times.
The time before it was inviting a 20-year-old guy
(who’d come to look at my room in my old flat)
to a New Year party out of obligation,
getting drunk,
him whacking golf balls off the deck and into our neighbours’ houses,
and setting off a firework in the kitchen,
then kissing me and biting my cheeks
and accidentally ripping out my earring with his teeth.
The time before that it was drunkenly kissing a reasonably unattractive guy in a bar,
him inviting me to his place for a party and no one being there when we arrived,
him telling me that he liked to listen to his sister having sex,
and that she had lots of sex with different partners in order to get over her depression,
me calling up a friend, who came to bail me out,
the guy somehow wangling his way into coming along with us,
and me ending up locked in my friend’s bathroom all night until we finally got rid of the guy in the morning.
There has to be a link between those situations and the fact that if there’s:
A monk selling books about Buddhism,
someone collecting for Amnesty International;
or someone signing people up to make monthly payments to Greenpeace,
I’ll end up owning a book,
my wallet will be emptied,
my bank account will get debited.
I guarantee it.

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