Rude Awakening, Much? (Creeper)

There was the porn, and then there were the social media sites, and the video sites, and the MMORPGs, and so, of course, I stayed up way too late. Which wasn't the end of the world, because my job didn't start until 4:00 in the afternoon, and my one summer semester class (Monday through Thursday just after lunch) was a general studies cakewalk. Sleeping in was not a big deal for me that summer.

Except that some lunatic was banging on my front door.

I grabbed my cell phone off the nightstand to see what time it was. No good. Glasses. Fuck. Shoved the glasses on my face and my bleary eyes to focus on the screen. 7:00 AM.

Now, understand: I had never been a violent person. Outside of video games, I hadn't attacked anyone since third grade, when that jackass, Dirk, had started a game of keep-away with the game case for my Nintendo DS. And my attempt to lower the boom on Dirk didn't end well for me.

Fast forward twelve years and a few months, and throw in a tragic lack of sleep, and I definitely felt like maybe it was time to reconsider my default pacifist stance. Especially since the lunatic wasn't letting up. If I'd stubbed my toe on the bedpost--something I did at least once or twice a week--I might have tried to go full on Super Saiyan between the bed and the apartment door. I missed it that time, and settled for yelling, "I'm coming!" several times. The knocking stopped, at least.

I'm not sure if it's possible to unlock a deadbolt angrily, but I took a shot at it, and opened the door about a foot. Somewhere in that tenth of a second between the lock and the doorknob, I remembered that I was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. Painfully conscious of my lack of clothing, I tried to keep my body as much behind the door as possible and peered out into the brightly lit hallway.

The girl in the hallway didn't even have the good grace to look sheepish. She lowered her sunglasses to the tip of her nose and looked at me over the rims, and said, "Hi. Are you Dean?"

"What?" Yeah, witty, I know.

"Are you Dean, the guy looking for a roommate?"

"It's 7:00 AM," was all I could muster in response to this question.

The sunglasses went back up to their proper position, and she said, "Right, but are you Dean? Do you have a room to rent?"

By this time, the fog was lifting from my brain, however tired my body might have been. I rubbed my eyes, cleared my throat, and managed to string several words together to reply, "Yeah, that's me. Give me a minute. Let me put some clothes on."

I pushed the door closed and moved back to the bedroom as fast as I could manage. Since no gamer worth his or her salt is ever far from comfortable clothing, it took me maybe half a minute to throw on some sweatpants and a vintage Mega Man t-shirt. As with most civilized adults soon after waking up in the morning, I had noticed a rather urgent need to piss. Figured I'd get that out of the way as well, then deal with little miss "My future's so bright, I gotta wear shades."

As I made the turn from my bedroom door toward the bathroom, though, I came to a hard stop. She was in the apartment. In. The. Apartment. On my side of the door I distinctly remembered closing. I couldn't even talk. I held up one finger in the universal, "one minute" sign, and continued on to see a man about a dog. I did not wash my hands.

My visitor sat on my futon sofa, completely at her ease, looking at her phone.