Prologue
You know... Thinking back on it now, it really wasn't the best decision I've ever made.
Noooo... Ya think?
... Are you being a smartass?
No more than you are.
...Wow, I hate you.
Well, you should. After all, I'm you, and you're the one who got yourself into this stupid mess.
... Bah! Alright, fine, I admit it! It was fucking stupid! But what was I supposed to do? Tell her no? Tell her that it was too bad that she'd made a stupid decision and wasted all that money and time and that she'd just have to see about getting her ticket changed so she could fly her ass right back to Phoenix that night?
I'm only your subconscious. I'm not qualified to make that decision.
Well, I mean... I couldn't! That'd be...
Yes?
Well, I mean... Really, a gentleman would NEVER...
Never what?
You know...
Pass up an opportunity to completely inconvenience himself and his roommates by allowing a stranger to sleep on their couch?
Well, yeah...
Or perhaps tell a girl he has only talked to on the phone a few times that it's really, REALLY nuts for her to just hop on a damn flight to Atlanta in the hopes that maybe - just maybe - you won't think it's completely fucking psycho that she did it and possibly fall madly in love with her?
Umm... Yeah, that too...
Oh, well I can totally see where you're coming from there.
You know what? Shut up.
No no, I think it's very noble of you to tell the crazy girl from Phoenix who got your address from an order you placed that she can stay the weekend. Seriously, big ups.
...Really?
...GOOD GOD NO! Can you not tell how creeped out we are by this???
I thought that was just the left over clam chowder we ate for lunch.
You know... I really think sometimes that we should swap places.
PSSSSH! Whatever.
No, really. I seem to be the only one with any sense in this head of yours.
So what, you think I should just stand aside and let us live on intuition alone?
It seems to be the only sensible course.
Yeah... Works with every single lottery ticket we buy.
...Fuck you.
Oh, I will, trust me... But not right now. I think I just heard the door.
Shit! Mike and Jon weren't supposed to be home for another two hours!
...Exactly what time do you think it is?
Uh... Wow. Have we really been sitting here arguing with ourselves all this time?
I guess... Anything to take our minds off thinking about both the sleeping heap of trouble over there and explaining her to the two least understanding guys on the planet... Who are walking through the door right now.
...You better come up with something, and quick.
No... I think this time, there's no bullshitting them. I think I should just tell them the truth this time.
...
Well?
Can I please, please, PLEASE convince you to NOT do that?
And what would you suggest? She's going to wake up soon...
Baseball bat.
Already considered that, and no.
Damn... Well, can't we make something up? Just... Come on, anything? She's escaped a mental institution? We rescued her from a gang of 900 klan biker rapists?
We already know she's fucking nuts, so we can't rely on her to just go along with whatever we come up with.
...Shit.
Yep.
Well... Okay, I'll start on the guilty pangs. You get busy stammering.
Already on it.
"Uh... Hi guys." I said as my roommates entered the living room.
Mike and Jon stood in the entry foyer, staring at both me and the lump o' strange girl laying on the couch. As if telepathically linked, they both unleashed huge, knowing grins at me simultaneously.
"No, no..." I said, answering their unspoken macho congratulations. "It's... It's not what it looks like."
"No?" Jon said as Mike carried the groceries past me and into the kitchen, smiling all the while. "Well, it looks like you wore her out to me!"
"Uh, no..." I said, standing up to help grab the Kroger bags dangling from Jon's fingers, "That wasn't me... That was... Uh... Her flight."
Mike poked his head through the doorway and into the living room. "Wait - What? Her flight?"
"Yeah," I answered. "From Phoenix."
Grins turned to gaping mouths as Jon and Mike both looked at one another, and then back at me. With a sigh, I nodded Jon toward the kitchen doorway where Mike stood, indicating that there was a lot of 'splaining to do.
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