Thursday, August 5, 2010

House Guest, Part 1

What do you do when a friend asks if someone can stay with you whom you barely know? If you're me, you say, "yes" . . . and then have a great story to tell.

No names here, since the person in question is very nice, but I told her I was going to write about our time together and she didn't object, so . . . here we go:

"B" was due to arrive at my house late afternoon last week. She was coming to Atlanta to be re-certified as a __________ instructor. I texted her at about 4PM, asking what her ETA was since I was in the throes of final clean-up in my fur-filled house. "Stopping in Macon to cool off. No AC in car. See you 5:30." was the reply.

"Great, see you then," I replied. "May be closer to 6" came just a little while later.

When B arrived, she was red faced and sweltering from the heat of the ride. What I didn't know at the time was that the red face was also the result of her stop in Macon. Three quick liquor drinks and she was back on the road to Atlanta. No lie!

We spent the first night chatting with my Aunt Athena on the deck. B had an early start the next morning with her ____________ class, so we were in our respective beds by midnight. The next morning, I invited her to join me and some college friends for dinner at Fritti. She wanted to see her ex-boyfriend, so she'd join us later at the restaurant.

Dinner was great, catching up with Breck and Martha on family and friends. B joined us and we were there until about 10PM, when I walked down the street to the Albert and B went back to see the boyfriend at his restaurant one more time.

I texted B at 11PM, letting her know I was home and to use the key I'd given her, no worries about the alarm system or the dogs (my back-up alarm system). No response, so I figured she was hanging with the ex.

Next morning, B was supposed to be leaving for home, but by 9AM I still hadn't heard from her and was getting worried. I sent her another text message, telling her my work schedule for the day. No response. I was just about to call our mutual friend when the phone rang. It was the other B, the one who'd asked if B could stay with me in the first place.

"I was just about to call you. What's going on?"

"She got arrested."

"Shit. Is she okay? Does she need me to post bail?" (like I've ever done that before!)

"Her ex-boyfriend bailed her out, but her car is impounded and her phone is in the car which is why she doesn't have your number."

"Ok, well I'll hang here and try to get in touch w/ her at the boyfriends (whose number she'd just given me)."

"Sorry about this. It figures that something would happen while she's staying with you. Really sorry."

"Don't worry! I'm just glad she's safe. I was getting ready to start calling hospitals."

Three hours later, B rolls in. She is red faced, swollen and dirty. And who can blame the girl? That's what any of us would look like after spending the night in the pokey.

B's first words: "God, I need a drink."

Next up: House Guest Part 2: Stories from the Pokey

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