Wednesday, August 3, 2011

The Funniest I've Ever Been

There was a time in my life that I consider to be my funniest. And I contribute each joke to bed bugs.

I was a joke gun. Locked, loaded, having everyone at work gripping their tummies after I shot them one at a time. It must have been the lack of sleep, and living in fear that while I was resting my sweet sweet head tiny bugs were eating me alive. Not to mention the bites were HUGE. Two, three in a row up my arm, and they itched and were tender and tight. URAAAGGG, I get so upset even thinking about it now.

Also at this time I was living in an apartment building where Tuesday night was the new Friday night. Every Tuesday someone was bumping jams and throwing ragers on the roof. One night it was so loud I literally woke up thinking their was a street festival outside. Then I looked out my window and saw a beer bottle sail from the roof into the street. WHAT THA? My boyfriend at the time was so gentle about the whole thing and would handle it with grace and pounding his fist into the floor and screaming like someone with turrets. I honestly didn't know some of the curse words he would use, but I would let him release his inner beast while I called the police.

You never know what you're going to say when you first get on the phone with 911.
"This is 911, please state your emergency."
"Yes, a large gathering of young college students has gathered on the roof of my apartment building. I have to wake up for work in 3 hours. My boyfriend is punching the floor like an angry caged gorilla, (at this point you've broken down into a fit of tears) and...and....I HAVING BED BUGSSSSSS."
"Is this a noise complaint?"
"YES! And they are throwing bottles off the roof. And they are all underage. And I swear I am not wasting your time, even though someone probably just murdered someone while a small child was kidnapped, I swear this will only take a few moments out of your busy day."

So here I am. It's 1:30am on a Tuesday night. I'm wearing my jammies, and am waiting at the front door of my building because the buzzer is broken, and I need to let the police in. While I'm standing their taxi after taxi is unloading college students coming to the biggest rager of the year. A few people stop to talk to me, and I warn them, "You can leave now, or you can leave when my friends the San Francisco Police Department arrive. Oh, and don't touch the walls or set your purse on anything, this building is swarming with BED BUGS."

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