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Roomies 8 December Was I nervous? Yes. Should I have been? I can't quantify that. All I know is that I woke very early, showered and was ready for the day. We had no shooting today; it had been a request. I'll put it this way...the filming they were doing was not anything that would involve Jack and me. It was truly fortunate this suite had two bedrooms. It was unfortunate that the one Hilary would soon occupy, taking my room mate with her, had been in use until yesterday. The persons who had the usage of said other suite had now completed their filming and none too soon if you'd like my opinion. It was still dark, just approaching sunrise, as I closed my door behind me and headed to the kitchen. "Fuck!" My leg impulsively came up as my hands instinctively went down to grab my foot. "Damnable hiking boots... Jack!" I hopped a few steps, as one does when one has just slammed a foot, then hobbled a bit until my eyes caught sight of the living area and I came to a screeching halt. "Bloody hell! Can't that man put anything away?" I entered the kitchen, still shaking off the decreasing pain in my foot, and threw on the light to find.... a disaster. I knew, without understating, I had done a thorough go through and clean-up of this very room last evening, after dinner. It had been spotless. It had been stainless. Every dish and piece of silver was in it's appointed place. The table was still set for breakfast. Otherwise, nothing could be found on any counter or the table or in the sink. And now? Now?!? There were dishes in the sink. Not one or two... several. Forks caked with... I dared not guess. Knives. A spoon with what I could tell was chocolate syrup. The ice cream scoop. A not quite empty popcorn bag had, apparently, fallen off the table leaving remnants behind. Butter, not taken from its wrapper, had melted and was making a sort of river to that same tables' edge. Salt was spilt. A wine bottle was perched on the stove, just past half empty, now warm and spoiled. I cringed and heaved a sigh as I walked back out to the living area. I had hoped what I had seen in passing was a bit easier to take than the kitchen. It wasn't. There was yesterdays newspaper strewn everywhere. One could swear he'd taken it apart and read one page at a time in various parts of the room then, leaving that page where it had been read, moved on to another page in another area; finally to meet a similar fate as its predecessor. Another popcorn bag lay on the floor next to the recliner with a trail of kernels from said chair to the telly, over to the radio and off towards the hall. An open beer bottle, obviously not consumed, had, apparently, sweated for hours and left a pool of water; now with an accompanying water ring, on the coffee table. Two wine glasses... yes two, were left out. One was on the end table next to that chair. The other was keeping the beer bottle company. Neither was empty. An empty bowl with a spoon stuck to it, no doubt the ice cream remnants, was on the mantle. What the bloody hell had gone on here after I'd retired last evening was out of my imaginings. I didn't want to know as I made my way back towards the kitchen. I now had to clean up again before I could cook breakfast. It was my turn to do so, after all. Time was beginning to tick off the clock too swiftly. Jo would be here soon.
I couldn't quite place the
irritating noise that roused me from sleep at the crack of dawn.
This was my one day to sleep in and with Hilly arriving today, I
wanted to be in peak form to greet her. The clock on the night side
table announced it was just past six and I could think of only one
activity that warranted this early a wake-up call and the noises from
that activity could never be defined as annoying. I pushed the covers
off and swung my feet to the floor. The sound was getting louder, which
meant closer, and it was beginning to dawn on me just what it was and,
more importantly, who was making it. I jerked the door open and almost
lost a toe as I entered the hallway. "Do you see this? Not just this, the rings on the end table? The mess on the coffee table? I'll have to scrape and then polish again...and the kitchen?"
"Dude, do you hear yourself? I never I thought I'd
say this, but you need to get laid before you turn into Suzy Homemaker
permanently."
Had Colin not looked
absolutely infuriated with me, I would have laughed out loud. I decided
to let to it go and went back into my room to get on my sweats. The
kitchen was in about the same shape as I had left it, except for the
fact that Colin had piled the dishes into the sink for a soak. As the
coffee brewed I cleaned and by the time Colin joined me, both the
coffee and kitchen were complete. Hoping to lighten the mood, I poured
two cups and set his down on the table. I nodded my agreement and watched him leave. I cleaned up the the remainder of my mess around the place, packed my gear and moved into the suite that Hilly and I would share while she was here. Now this was going to be heaven. I still had a few hours until she was set to arrive and had the place all to myself. A nice quiet nap seemed in order. There'd be no Colin to disturb me with his incessant cleaning, nagging and vacuuming at all hours. I found the bedroom, kicked off my boots and settled down for a quick 40. And then I tossed and turned and tossed some more. I sat straight up and laughed out loud in the quiet. That was the trouble and the joke was on me. It was too damn quiet. I found my boots and grabbed my jacket. Maybe Colin could use some company on his walk. |