At The Very Least, He Could've Brought A Pizza Or Something

A few years back, I spent the night working as a production assistant on a Suntori whiskey commercial. The producers were afraid that the client would be a little high-maintenance so my duties were to stay out of sight and just be around when something needed to be carried. So I stood by craft service, eating shumai from 6pm to 6am.

By the time that I got home I had been awake for about 40 hours. I was so tired that my skin hurt. I entered my apartment, made a bee-line for my bed and was asleep within seconds.

Two hours later, someone buzzes my door. I ignore it and try to fall back to sleep. One of the perks of living in Queens is that total strangers will buzz your apartment at all hours of the day and night. One time I actually saw a drunk guy walk down my street and push every buzzer along his boozed up trek.

BZZZ! BZZZZ! I ignore it again.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!

Now I'm awake and I'm pissed. I realize that it's probably my roommate and he has forgotten his keys or something. I get out of bed and almost fall flat on my face from exhaustion. I living-dead my way over to the intercom.

"WHAT?!", I semi-scream.

"I'mherlskdhflajdfldjfdjajatline.", a guy responds.

"WHAT?????", I grog back.

"I'mherlskdhflajdfldjfdjajatline.", he says once again.

I poke my head into my roommate's room. He's not around. I remember him saying something about the plumber maybe coming around. Which would be a good thing considering the amount of dark, black swamp water in our bathtub at the time.

I buzz the door and stand waiting in the doorway for our guest while wearing boxers and a T-shirt. Up the stairs climbs a 19-year old Puerto Rican kid, decked out like a thug. Seems a little young to be a plumber. I figure he's an apprentice or something.

"Yo, where's your man at?" he asks like he knows me.

I'm so tired that it takes me close to a minute to respond. "Who? Tom? I think he's working today."

"Aww, I was hoping to catch you both before he left."

Another long pause. "Are you a plumber?"

"So, he's not here?"

"No," I show him to my roommate's room. "See, he's not here."

Then the kid starts trying to make small talk with me. "So, whatch you up to?"

Another lapsed response, as if I was a satellite-fed war correspondent, "Sleeping. I've been up for two days."

"Doing what?"

"Working, man."

"What do you do for work?"

What felt like 30 minutes passed. "Who are you? If you're a friend of my roommate's you're gonna have to come back another time."

"I thought he had to leave at 11. I wanted to hang with both of you before he left."

"Well, I don't know you so you're gonna have to leave."

"Is this (X address)?"

"Yeah."

"Apt. 2R?"

"Yeah."

"I met you guys on the chat line." he states.

"The what?"

"The chat line."

"You mean, like the Internet?" I ask.

"Yes." he responds while undoing his pants.

Now, I'm wide awake. "DUDE. WE DON'T EVEN OWN A COMPUTER."

I realize what he's there for and he realizes that he's in the wrong place.

What resulted next was akin to that scene where Gertie meets E.T. for the first time and they both scream in terror. Dude darts out of my apartment and I bolt all of the locks as quickly as possible.

And wouldn't you know it, after all that Man-On-Get-The-Hell-Out-Of-My-Apartment action I wasn't able to fall back asleep.

I may never sleep again.