Psychos from Brasil
Psycho #309
Last Monday. It is the night before I head back to Illinois and I am back at my old house with Roomie. We are listening to old-timey stories on the radio upstairs and drinking milk tea, when I hear muffled shouting. Can't tell where it is coming from, but I suppose it is outside somewhere.
R: "Do you hear anything?"
Me: "Yea, but I think it's outside."
We go back to listening to our play, with tons of bad Eastern European and Arab accents. Some of them sound clearly Scottish, although the country in question is Turkey. However, it is about vampires and adventurous grad students who somehow have enough money to gallavant around the world.
Suddenly, I hear someone outside the door. In the hallway. OMGWTFBBQ! The vampires have materialized out of the story and are standing in the hallway?!?
Then I realize it sounds an awful lot like my old roommate. The one who never did any chores and used up a roll of TP every two days. Upon opening the door, I see a woman dressed in what looks like a towel; had she taken a shower without us noticing? I stare hard and realize that it is a dress.
R recognizes her as the crazy ex-girlfriend of Old Roommate, who has already left for Brasil. Visiting for a medical internship, she had stayed for two weeks here before beating him up and moving to a co-op. But even before that, according to R, they were always arguing and screaming and shit. Unhealthy, no?
R: "How the hell did you get in here?"
Crazy Ex: "I am looking for my suitcase. I go back to Brasil tomorrow."
R: "How the hell did you get in here?"
Crazy Ex: "With OR's key."
R trundles down to the basement and lugs the hundred-pound suitcase back up. Crazy Ex wrenches it away and attempts to leave with her friend.
R: "Can I get the key back?"
Crazy Ex: "No. I will give it to OR in Brasil."
R: "He doesn't live here anymore."
Crazy Ex: "No. I will give it to OR in Brasil."
Because we are tired, we leave it at that. It's not worth it to deal with crazy bitches who burst into your house in the middle of the night unannounced and demanding luggage. R mused that although they said they had entered through the back door, it was undisturbed.
Her true craziness was not fully yet known until the next morning.
We are downstair making breakfast. In the kitchen, R moves to close the window.
R: "Holy shit!"
Me: "What?"
R: "She didn't have OR's key."
Me: "How do you know that?"
R: "The window screen's been cut."
And sure enough, a generous flap had been sliced into the screen.
Last Monday. It is the night before I head back to Illinois and I am back at my old house with Roomie. We are listening to old-timey stories on the radio upstairs and drinking milk tea, when I hear muffled shouting. Can't tell where it is coming from, but I suppose it is outside somewhere.
R: "Do you hear anything?"
Me: "Yea, but I think it's outside."
We go back to listening to our play, with tons of bad Eastern European and Arab accents. Some of them sound clearly Scottish, although the country in question is Turkey. However, it is about vampires and adventurous grad students who somehow have enough money to gallavant around the world.
Suddenly, I hear someone outside the door. In the hallway. OMGWTFBBQ! The vampires have materialized out of the story and are standing in the hallway?!?
Then I realize it sounds an awful lot like my old roommate. The one who never did any chores and used up a roll of TP every two days. Upon opening the door, I see a woman dressed in what looks like a towel; had she taken a shower without us noticing? I stare hard and realize that it is a dress.
R recognizes her as the crazy ex-girlfriend of Old Roommate, who has already left for Brasil. Visiting for a medical internship, she had stayed for two weeks here before beating him up and moving to a co-op. But even before that, according to R, they were always arguing and screaming and shit. Unhealthy, no?
R: "How the hell did you get in here?"
Crazy Ex: "I am looking for my suitcase. I go back to Brasil tomorrow."
R: "How the hell did you get in here?"
Crazy Ex: "With OR's key."
R trundles down to the basement and lugs the hundred-pound suitcase back up. Crazy Ex wrenches it away and attempts to leave with her friend.
R: "Can I get the key back?"
Crazy Ex: "No. I will give it to OR in Brasil."
R: "He doesn't live here anymore."
Crazy Ex: "No. I will give it to OR in Brasil."
Because we are tired, we leave it at that. It's not worth it to deal with crazy bitches who burst into your house in the middle of the night unannounced and demanding luggage. R mused that although they said they had entered through the back door, it was undisturbed.
Her true craziness was not fully yet known until the next morning.
We are downstair making breakfast. In the kitchen, R moves to close the window.
R: "Holy shit!"
Me: "What?"
R: "She didn't have OR's key."
Me: "How do you know that?"
R: "The window screen's been cut."
And sure enough, a generous flap had been sliced into the screen.
posted by ML at 6:53:00 PM
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