Some manic young peroxide blonde woke me yesterday. I still had another hour before the alarm, but her yelling and screaming took that hour away.
She was beating on the door, begging someone named Brian to please let her in. She needed her stuff. It was on the microwave. She promised never to bother him again if he would just please let her have her stuff. She needed it bad.
It's only natural for me to wonder what she needed so badly she was willing to beat on a man's door for half an hour, screaming and begging. If she'd been beating at my door I wouldn't have opened it either.
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