It’s the Sunday night after Thanksgiving. I was in my room sleeping when around 5 am I hear my roommate walk from her bedroom to the bathroom or so I thought. My door was ajar, and I couldn’t fall back asleep until I was sure she was back in her room. I never hear her return to her room. I need to sleep; I can’t stay up monitoring her activity.
Suddenly, I hear what can only be described as full-grown grizzly bear mixed with Chubakka snoring. Rebecca, you can't sleep with your door open if you plan to snore like a wildebeest.
A half hour later I hear some stomping. I get that it might be prayer o’clock but it can also be quite an hour?
THUD! Things crash and tumble. That was the last straw; I needed to confront her. But I can’t go out there rolling my neck; she could be hurt. She’s not in the living room. I see a glow coming from the kitchen.
Spotted in the far left corner: Bobby the burglar passed out with the fridge wide open and his belongings sprawled all over the floor.
The roommate had a habit of befriending strangers. No one had ever slept over, but it didn't seem farfetched. Returning to my room, I dial her phone. I can hear it buzzing, but she doesn’t answer. Was she screening my calls?
"Do you have guests?" I hit ‘send’ on the texting app. Wait. Copy. Paste. Send. Wait. No response.
Listen, Antoine Dodson said, "hide yo’ kids, hide yo’ wife, and hide yo’ husband ‘cause they rapein’ everybody up here!" So I hid in my closet. This could have been the apocalypse or rapture and sister Rebecca was about it miss it. I do the counter-intuitive thing for a black character in a horror film by leaving my hiding spot.
When I get Rebecca up to speed, she says she didn't invite someone to the house. While on the phone with the police, I had to say something that kind of felt like betraying my people, but in reality I ain't know him from Adam.
"Ma'am what does the intruder look like?"
"He's a black male with a thick coat." (insert sad emoji face) #FreeBuju
Three officers show up to remove him from the apartment. In my opinion, they were kind of rough, but that's another story. Apparently, I didn't lock the door when I threw out the trash. So on his way back home, our intoxicated intruder was able to enter our kitchen. It turns out he was about 11 houses away from his home.
When I went to clean up his mud tracks in the kitchen, I found a pair of earbuds. That morning I gave thanks that our bed intruder wasn't a rapist and for the free pair of earbuds. It was a timely Thanksgiving gift as I'd recently lost my pair.
Shout out to all the bed intruder survivors and light sleepers.
Created on St. Maarten. Based in Chicago. Onicia Muller (@OniciaMuller) writes, says funny things, and enjoys hanging with creative minds. Originally published in The Daily Herald's Weekender, Just Being Funny is a weekly reflection where Onicia laughs at life.
Suddenly, I hear what can only be described as full-grown grizzly bear mixed with Chubakka snoring. Rebecca, you can't sleep with your door open if you plan to snore like a wildebeest.
A half hour later I hear some stomping. I get that it might be prayer o’clock but it can also be quite an hour?
THUD! Things crash and tumble. That was the last straw; I needed to confront her. But I can’t go out there rolling my neck; she could be hurt. She’s not in the living room. I see a glow coming from the kitchen.
Spotted in the far left corner: Bobby the burglar passed out with the fridge wide open and his belongings sprawled all over the floor.
The roommate had a habit of befriending strangers. No one had ever slept over, but it didn't seem farfetched. Returning to my room, I dial her phone. I can hear it buzzing, but she doesn’t answer. Was she screening my calls?
"Do you have guests?" I hit ‘send’ on the texting app. Wait. Copy. Paste. Send. Wait. No response.
Listen, Antoine Dodson said, "hide yo’ kids, hide yo’ wife, and hide yo’ husband ‘cause they rapein’ everybody up here!" So I hid in my closet. This could have been the apocalypse or rapture and sister Rebecca was about it miss it. I do the counter-intuitive thing for a black character in a horror film by leaving my hiding spot.
When I get Rebecca up to speed, she says she didn't invite someone to the house. While on the phone with the police, I had to say something that kind of felt like betraying my people, but in reality I ain't know him from Adam.
"Ma'am what does the intruder look like?"
"He's a black male with a thick coat." (insert sad emoji face) #FreeBuju
Three officers show up to remove him from the apartment. In my opinion, they were kind of rough, but that's another story. Apparently, I didn't lock the door when I threw out the trash. So on his way back home, our intoxicated intruder was able to enter our kitchen. It turns out he was about 11 houses away from his home.
When I went to clean up his mud tracks in the kitchen, I found a pair of earbuds. That morning I gave thanks that our bed intruder wasn't a rapist and for the free pair of earbuds. It was a timely Thanksgiving gift as I'd recently lost my pair.
Shout out to all the bed intruder survivors and light sleepers.
Created on St. Maarten. Based in Chicago. Onicia Muller (@OniciaMuller) writes, says funny things, and enjoys hanging with creative minds. Originally published in The Daily Herald's Weekender, Just Being Funny is a weekly reflection where Onicia laughs at life.