I currently live in a 4 bedroom house with
First thing I noticed about the stranger in our house was that he'd eaten my last Hagen Das ice-cream bar from the fridge, then dropped the last bit of it on the floor next to him as he passed out. Grrr! Who does this guy think he is?! How fucked up do you have to be to stumble into a random house, eat their food, and then pass out? Although it would have been funnier to let him wake up there in the morning, perhaps after shaving his pubes and wrapping him in duct tape, we didn't want to leave him unattended. We try to shake him a few times but he doesn't wake up. Then we start speculating on dumping a bucket of water on him. We contemplate stealing his drivers license and driving him home. Eventually we get him to sit up and look around. He mumbles something indicating he still doesn't realize where he is or that he's in the wrong place. After passing back out, and then being woken up again a few minutes later, we force him onto his feet. All of a sudden he finally realizes he's not in the right house and starts to bolt for what he thinks is the front door, but is really the door to the bedroom of the fourth guy who lives with us. We grab him and point him towards the real front door.
Once we get him outside in the cold air, he seems sober enough to converse with. He says "you mean this isn't the house I was partying at all night?" "Definitely not." We ask him where the party was and he has no idea. He lives all the way across town, but the situation is so hilarious, and we don't want to just leave him outside in the cold so we offer to drive him home. He says "all I've got is ten dollars, that can't possibly cover it." We laugh, and tell him to get in the fucking car. We drive around the block for a bit but all the other houses are dark and there are no obvious parties in sight. After driving on the highway for a while to get to his place he starts saying "am I on real world or something? this can't be happening. who the hell are you guys? why are you being so nice to me?" He keeps insisting that he be able to repay us, and we keep shaking our heads, but he won't shut up about it. So finally we give in and pull over to a 7-eleven, and talk him down to buying us only a 6-pack of fat tire rather than a 12-pack (which is good, since he was too messed up to realize he couldn't have covered it). "Good, now we're even" I say. "No way man, you guys are the best."
The most ironic part is, every other house in our neighborhood is owned by old foggies in their seventies who call the cops whenever someone so much as raises their voice, bats an eye, or yes... even builds without a "proper permit". If he'd have stumbled in to any other house on the block, he'd have spent a long night in jail. What an extremely lucky turn of events for this fellow!
What would you have done?
- Current Mood:chaotic
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btw that has to be the coolest story I have read in a month
slaped some food in his face then and get him out the door :)
great story, though. :)
I once found a scruffy black guy passed out in our hallway. I gave him a cigarette, then told him he'd have to get out, but that I wouldn't call the police. He laughed at me quietly, and I was getting pissed off until Keith walked in and hailed him as an invited friend. Turns out he was some grandmaster of AeroEngineering. It was an illuminating look at predjudices thought forgotten.