The guy I was dating came over to visit me at my house, which was
this teeny tiny hovel that had exactly one piece of furniture, a bed I
shared with my friend Sasa. I was a little bit mortified because he had
dropped by unexpectedly and apparently this was a time of the day where
I couldn't leave my bed and neither could Sasa.
It's not like we were physically incapable of getting out of the bed, because during another part of the dream dude and I went to hang out at a pinball arcade, but for some reason we just did not leave the bed and I knew that we wouldn't. It was like Charlie Bucket's grandparents in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
What made the whole thing even more awkward was that Sasa wouldn't speak the entire time he was over. Seriously, she didn't make a single peep. Jesus. And my man was nice enough not to make any comments about the fact that I lived in a shack made out of wood planks or, for that matter, that I lived in a bed with another lady, even though he had a wicked sharp and really great sense of humor. I don't know, maybe he had a really good poker face; I'm pretty sure his family was in the Mexican mafia.
