I had no intention of blogging tonight, but this was just too good that I had no choice. I was sitting in my writing room, doing what all good eccentric writers do at two in the morning . . . writing, when I decided to take an inspiration break. I figured I’d watch the trailer for DAMAGES about a dozen times, something about that song mixed with John Goodman slugging that guy, just pulls the creative juices from me. So, I shut off my light for the full HD effect, when I turned to the window.
What do I see? A naked male figure walking aimlessly around the next yard. First thing that goes through my mind, “Shit. A Zombie” because you know damn well, there’s always a naked zombie running around any zombie movie. I start pacing, my heart racing, I pick up the phone to call 911. Just as I start to dial, I realize, ‘wait, that’s Ben, my hot next door neighbor. Whoa.’ Alright, now is Ben a zombie? No, he just scratched his head. Zombies don’t scratch their heads, just like they don’t open doors.
Why is Ben running around naked? So, I do what any good neighbor should do. I pretended I need something from my car. Yeah, I know it’s two in the morning. If he’s in his yard naked, what the hell does he care what I’m getting from my car.
I grabbed my air pistol, just in case and headed on out. Nonchalantly I waved. “Oh, hey, Ben. Nice night, huh?”
“yeah. Cooling down,” He replied.
“Ok.” I stopped. “Why are you naked? Is it some weird moon ritual?”
He laughed and shook his head. Then it must have dawned on him he was standing there in all his nude glory, he quickly grabbed the Little Tykes baseball bat and covered himself. He told me he was locked out.
“Do you need my phone?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t help. She won’t let me back in.”
Ah, the girlfriend locked him out “How about some clothes?” I asked.
“That would be nice. Thanks.”
Ben’s not a big guy . . . wait, let me rephrase that. Ben’s not a tall guy, but still unfortunately for Ben, this is a household of women and children. I did find something for him and a sleeping bag.
He’s still out there as I pen this, but I am sure he’s a lot more comfortable in those too-small purple sweatpants and tight gray tank top under that CARS sleeping bag, than he was naked.
The view for me, however, is not quite as fun.
Back to writing.