Twice in the past two weeks I have been woken up by people knocking on my front door. The first occasion I will be ever grateful for. It went a little like this:
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK (ten minutes later) KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
Me, opening the door: "Hi male neighbor 1. Why are you waking me up at the ungodly hour of nine in the morning?"
Him: "My roommate, male neighbor 2, told me his boss wants a second interview with you this morning, and suggested I come to wake you up since you didn't seem to be answering your phone."
Me, already planning the quickest route to the shower: "My phone didn't ring, but thanks for the info. Goodbye."
An hour and a half later I walked out of the interview that got me my first job out of college. Huzzah for that persistent knocker, male neighbor 1!
The second occasion was a little more bizarre. During a well-earned nap on Saturday, I was surprised to notice that the bottoms of my feet were very cold. Then I realized that I was standing on the tile at the front door, with my friend Tyler the chef standing there, trying to talk to me. I had apparently responded to his knocking by getting off the couch and opening the door without actually waking up enough to hold a conversation. I think he told me something about a football game that we'd won, and then graciously left me when he realized he was talking to a sleepwalker. I'm still not sure why he came in the first place.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
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