My right eye is twitching.
Not the eye itself but the lid, I guess, to be specific.
I've been up since 3 AM.
Do you think the two might be related? I do. Let me tell you a story. No, really. LET ME. I need to, or I’ll die.
This morning (early enough to be considered last night) I made myself feel very old for scolding complete strangers. I didn't mean to scold them. I wasn't going to do it, I was just going to ignore the situation because I didn't want any hurt feelings. So what if I was woken up at 3 AM and kept awake for an hour and 46 minutes (I was watching the fucking clock. So, too, would you have been. Watching the clock, that is, not tired, but THAT TOO) by total strangers, when they KNEW I WAS THERE SLEEPING? So what if someone LITERALLY would have gotten SHOT if I’d known where a gun was because they were making so much noise, it sounded like they were kicking the door in? (I’M NOT EVEN KIDDING. I would have shot someone. Because I don’t give a shit who you are, if you sound like you’re breaking into the house I’m sleeping in, I’m going to shoot you in the face if that is an option- as opposed to even entertain the risk that you’re going to hurt my unborn child. Yeah. THAT’S HOW IT IS.)
Aside: DUDE. If you are a guest of a friend who was nice and STUPID enough to let you crash at a family member's house without permission when she does not live there and has not requested permission to be there herself, let alone with company, TRY NOT TO BE A DICK. Seriously. Work on it as hard as you can, or you're going to have someone who's a scant FOUR YEARS OLDER THAN YOU ARE treating you like you're a fucking CHILD. Ha! Literally.
So, like I was saying: I honest-to-god wasn't going to say anything because as nasty as I can be, I have that whole STRANGER ISSUE that I've talked about here before, wherein I don't like them. I seriously, really, really don't like strangers. It's not that I'm afraid of them, necessarily (but sometimes I am) it's just that I don't really want to impose upon them (EVEN WHEN THEY'RE KEEPING MY PREGNANT SELF AWAKE WITH THEIR DRUNKEN B.S) or like, have them touch me or anything. Ever. And I don't like to make people feel bad. Even when, like I may have mentioned here very subtly, they are keeping me awake. When I'm pregnant. At three AM. And their “host”? SHE'S GONE TO BED, AND WAS NEVER BEING AS LOUD AS THEY WERE. So their loudness was INFINITELY MORE IRRITATING.
Another aside! : DUDE AGAIN! So, like, when I was a partier -- which I was, semi-professionally for a very short time, and on an occasional basis for many-a-year -- and I was at someone else's house after the bar? I kept my noise level where their noise level was. I did not throw myself into the house, proceed to slam every door I saw, and yell. Nor did I (and this is the kicker) have very loud, drunken adult activity sessions on the couch I found in the living room if A: my host wasn’t a GREAT friend, B: that couch did not belong to my host, and C: it wasn't obvious that I was going to be using the couch as a vehicle to get my rocks off, and I wasn’t given express permission to do it. IT here being USE A STRANGER'S COUCH FOR SEX. Because that, right there, is trashy, and I don't care how young or drunk you are. Have some self respect. Also? Maybe some respect for the person who's house you’re in, or the person sleeping 15 feet away from you would be cool. Just an idea. (I know having drunken sex on a stranger's couch is all hot and sweaty and impromptu and spontanious and just really young and super sexy, but not when there's a pregnant girl who practically owns the couch you're sexin' on trying to sleep 5 yards away. And you're being REALLY LOUD. Like, JUNGLE NOISE LOUD. And the couch is slamming into the wall like you're trying to break that fucker down. Seriously. Not cool.)
Feh! So! To continue! I wasn't going to say anything. After all, NOT MY HOUSE. And like I said: I don’t like to be mean to people. So, I was just going to like, get up and go on my merry way. (At 4:45 in the morning by then. You guess exactly how merry my way was by that point.) But then I was looking for my flip flops in the dark, because I didn't want to turn on the light and embarrass the people that had been keeping me awake (!??!) when I realized that there was no more noise. (There had been a lot of noise.) Which made me realize that while I was fumbling for my shoes in the dead of night, the two people that were in the dark room at my back had done the FREEZE AND PRETEND WE’RE ASLEEP thing, so that I would be polite enough to leave them alone.
Let me stress that, because I don’t think I have: They were pretending to be ASLEEP (the thing I had been, before they had totally disrespected everyone in the situation by being loud assholes) so that I would not confront them (about being loud assholes)… So they were relying on my decency and humility (of which they had none) to keep me from confronting them about what they had been doing. Which meant they knew they were being assholes and didn’t want to get called out. (F'in WHAT!?)
So, like… Obviously, I had to say something. It literally wasn’t even an option because all of this occurred to me in a split second, and I couldn’t really stop the INSTANT RAGE that bubbled up and out of my mouth. Before that second, I had not been angry. I had been put out, because I had been sleeping before they decided it was appropriate to be rude, but I was understanding because dude – young and drunk. Whatever. We’ve all been there, or near there, or can understand the motivation or lack thereof. I personally, pre-gestationally, had quite the love affair with Mr. Jack Daniels and was known to sing Elton John loudly while falling down the sidewalk. What the fuck ever. I generally try not to harsh out someone’s buzz. Judge not, and all that.
So, with my back to them (Still not wanting to embarrass the little fuckers -ha!) while getting my shoes on, I said very calmly, very clearly:
“Do either of you even KNOW the person who’s house you’re in right now?”
WELL FUCK THAT, YOU LITTLE SHITBAGS.
I’d not two minutes before heard them making some very specific noises that only happen when two (or more!) people are doing very specific things (And we ain’t talkin’ about whittling here, folks,) while making an incredibly active effort to destroy the property of someone I’m protective over – and so, obviously, am I protective over his shit - and they were going to pretend to sleep when I was addressing them? AFTER THEY WOKE ME UP AND KEPT ME AWAKE, they were going to pretend they HADN’T been so incredibly rude? Hell to the no, home skillet, I don’t even think so.
I flipped the bedroom light on, turned around, took a couple of steps further into the living room and leaned toward them. They actually had their eyes squeezed shut. Like babies, pretending to sleep. (If you’re going to be brazen enough to hole drunken, naked gymnastics on a stranger’s couch, be brazen enough to make eye contact with that stranger’s pregnant, tired girlfriend when she confronts you about your bullshit, children. And yes, suddenly, apparently: The Girl, THY NAME IS CONSEQUENCE.) So I raised my voice a few million decibels and repeated:
“YOU. BOTH OF YOU ON THE COUCH. Do either of you KNOW the person WHO’S HOUSE YOU’RE IN RIGHT NOW?”
They actually flinched, both of them. Thus unable to ignore me or continue this little I-can’t-see-you-so-you-can’t-see-me game, the guy gets up OFF OF THE GIRL (Yeah. YEAH.) who was seriously covering her face with one hand because the light was burning her poor rude little drunken eyes, and he goes, “What? Yeah. Um, dumb-girl-who-put-us-up-out-of-the-kindness-of-her-misguided-heart-even-though-the-homeowner-wouldn’t-have-approved-of-this’s-name-here’s brother. Yeah… Um, I met him once.”
You don’t even know his name? Well, fuck that, too!
“Oh, awesome! Well, just to be clear, THAT’S NOT WELL ENOUGH TO KNOW SOMEONE AND FUCK ON THEIR COUCH. You guys are NEAT.”
Then I left. And if they’d had a car, I would have slashed its motherfucking tires, because I was so angry that my chest was aching. I seriously thought “Am I going to have a heart attack from rage? I haven’t been angry in so long that it’s actually going to kill me?” I have rarely experienced something SO. DAMN. RUDE.
And from what I hear, the father of my child came home shortly after I left and regulated some shit… Which makes me feel bad for his sister, who was just being nice to her friends, but just for a second because come the fuck on. Those friends were really, really disrespectful. And if I’d still been there when he lost his shit? I would have been right there with him, chewing ass. I’m really proud of him for standing up for himself because he doesn’t always, because he really doesn’t like to be angry. But this situation? This was OBVIOUSLY going to make him angry. You can’t know him and believe otherwise. You can only have hoped to avoid getting caught doing something that would make him this angry. Which, um. No. There’s some strangers bodily fluids on his micro suede couch. Pretty sure he’d catch on one way or the other, being paid to DETECT shit like he is. WE don't even have sex on that couch, you stranger assholes!
Word to the third aside: If someone came out of the bedroom they’d been sleeping in, in a house that was like a BILLION PERCENT more their property than mine, scolded me for being seriously stupid, and then stormed out into the dark because oh my god, it’s not even DAWN YET? I’d probably get the hell out of Dodge. Not these two geniuses. Nope. They stuck around to get their asses reamed by someone who does a much better job than I do. I yell a lot, so the impact is lower. He NEVER yells, so it’s shocking and terrifying. And he hates having to yell, which makes him angrier.
Most of all, he really hates disrespectful people. Some of us aren’t new to the whole drunken scene (and are, you know, ADULTS AND SHIT) and realize that it’s never cool to be disrespectful. It’s ALWAYS a dick move. ALWAYS. And these people weren’t only being disrespectful, they were doing it in his house. Without his permission to be there.
Not a good plan. Such a bad plan that it comes with sirens, on fire, flashing neon, with stickers that say BAD FUCKING PLAN and a midget to read the REALLY BAD PLAN stickers repeatedly and in various ominous accents.
Moral of the story: Don’t wake me up at 3 AM. No, scratch that. That wasn’t the issue. Don’t wake me up and KEEP ME UP for close to TWO HOURS with your bullshit behavior and then try to pretend you haven’t done anything, or I may be forced to break my foot off in your stupid, stupid ass. Furthermore: Don’t piss off my boyfriend. He never gets angry, and when he does it is a terrible thing. Terrible.
Also: My eye is still fucking twitching.