Suitcase Hostage Situation

My neighbour is subletting her apartment to an eccentric guy from Saskatoon.

He kind of reminds me of Kramer from Seinfeld, because he’s extremely extroverted and has crazy ideas that he’ll share with just about anyone. Also, like Kramer, the weirdest things happen to him. He’s an oddity.

So, this guy moved in a few days ago, and I only met him this morning. He was wearing the tackiest tourist garb–those red hoodies with “Canada” and “Toronto” barfed all over them.

Gasp

He mentioned that he was from Saskatoon, and so I found it bizarre that he had a hefty appetite for tacky Canadian tourist stuff. Last time I checked, the only people who wear those red sweaters are Asians visiting from Hong Kong or illegal Russian immigrants just trying to fit in (albeit, poorly).

“Nice sweater,” I squeaked.

He laughed, cocked his head to one side, and let out an exasperated sigh.

Turns out, someone took his suitcase hostage. Yeah, I’m being serious. The airline lost someone’s suitcase. That disgruntled passenger decided to take a perfect stranger’s luggage and keep it until the airline found theirs. What a jerk.

This guy panicked and bought a few things at the airport to last him a few days. Such a bad move in retrospect because 1) Everything at the airport is overpriced, 2) Everything at the airport is ugly, and 3) He could have gone to H & M and got some normal looking items on sale. I say H & M because you can get a t-shirt for like 5 bucks.

My roommate and I are taking him shopping today. I’ll be damned if a Canadian wears those tacky red hoodies!

You have an insufferable personality

Yes, you have an insufferable personality.

We are all insufferable to some extent. We all have little quirks and habits that are annoying to the people around us.

Act like a prize, and you’ll turn them into believers.

Here are some of the things that I think make me insufferable:

• I chew crunchy food really, really loudly. People on the other floors can practically hear me eating an apple. Crunch, crunch, crunch.
• While we’re on the topic of eating, I eat really slowly. I don’t know if it’s because I’m chewing slowly, or too much, but I end up finishing my meal way after everyone else is done. and no, I won’t hurry it up.
• I’m probably too friendly to people who want to be left the hell alone.
• Sometimes I just want to be left the hell alone.
• I’m always 15 minutes late to social functions, and I express great disdain showing up on time or (gasp) early. Who does that?
• I walk really fast and I’m always in a hurry. As if I’m a New Yorker or something (I’ve never even been to New York). I am the worst enemy of high school girls who text while walking. I brisk right past them and nearly topple them over.
• I metamorphise into an apocalyptic survivor scrambling for precious resources when driving in traffic. The precious resource in this scenario is space. I want that space you’re in. I want that space in front of you. I’m going to force my way in front of you, even though you ignored my blinker. Snaaarl
• I’m a fucking gluttonist, okay?! I eat everything. And then I talk about it. Non-stop.
• If I get bored during a conversation I don’t react to what was said, and just try to change the topic. This obviously pisses off many people.

What makes you insufferable?

You are cordially invited to a threesome.

Or until I had to pee.

Friday was interesting. I met an old friend from highschool over dinner and drinks. See, we were good friends in highschool, and drifted apart because we went to different colleges in different towns. Anyways, now that we’re both back in our home town, we can see a lot more of each other.

I was excited to meet up with an old friend and catch up. I wanted to hear about everything I missed for the past four years. I wanted to share survival stories of the post grad world. Job hunt tips. Resume tips. Keeping your shit together while you’re busy looking like you’re keeping your shit together.

I dressed like I had my shit together. Jeans, a nice top, and a cute pair of boots I can’t afford.

We sat down after excited giggling and obligatory exchanges of “You look great!” I ordered a nice plate of pasta and a martini. The waiter informed me that the pasta might be a while. Sure, sure, I told him. I’m catching up with an old friend, we’ll be here a while!

As soon as we got our drinks, she started venting to me about her love life. She’s been dating the same guy for over 2 years, and get this–he went to our highschool. I couldn’t remember him for the life of me. I nodded sympathetically even though I had no idea who she was talking about.

Then she dropped the proverbial bomb.

Would you want to try a threesome with us?

It sounds weird out of context. Let me rephrase that. It was something like this — John’s birthday is coming up, and I want to do something really wild for him. I want to have a threesome. I don’t want to look for an anonymous stranger on Craigslist because that would be really awkward!

Before I could bring up STDs and other disastrous things that are worse than an “awkward experience” she dropped it on me. We looked through some of your Facebook pictures, and we think you look great. Oh, and since we both know you, I think that everyone would feel comfortable. Would you want to try a threesome with us?

They shopped for a threesome partner on Facebook. On my Facebook, to be exact. I felt violated and flattered. I was summoned to this dinner+drinks meeting for a very specific purpose. And now I have to wait for my food, which for some reason, takes a long time to make. Dammit.

But more importantly, Who the hell is John and how does he know me? My mind started racing. I imagine a 15-minute long pause while I scrambled for a response. It was really, really, awkward. More awkward that finding your threesome candidate on Craigslist.

I’m really flattered that you guys are interested in me. I don’t think that I can, though. You see, I’m seeing someone. Yes…that’s it. I’m seeing someone. And it’s getting serious. So, yeah, I don’t think that I’ll be able to participate. But thanks!

I’m not seeing anyone. I just couldn’t fathom seeing both of them naked. I just couldn’t. It was way too awkward.

Luckily for me, this opened up another can of worms: my love life. Fantastic. I told really detailed stories about my current mystery man. I recycled good stories from my previous relationships and created the ultimate imaginary boyfriend! She was impressed.

The rest of the evening went by smoothly. However, she followed up a few days later requesting we double date.

Shit.