Bold As Brass

[This post contains material of the intimate variety and should not be read by my family. Don't say I didn't warn you.]

I currently live with two very good friends of mine, Caley and Justin, who happen to be engaged to each other. This is a very good situation for me, but I understand their need for some personal space and try to make myself as scarce as possible at certain times. When they're out and I have the house to myself however, I do take the liberty of doing things I would not do otherwise such as walking around in my sports bra or taking a long, quiet bath.

It came to pass one day that I had the house to myself all morning. I took this opportunity to straighten up my room in anticipation of a visit from my dad in the evening. I washed all my clothes and bed linens and sorted through some papers I had lying around. Since I was cleaning everything in the room, I decided to take my boy toy out and give him a good cleaning too. (Of course these sorts of things should be cleaned as often as they're used, but some extra attention doesn't hurt either.) I recommenced the general cleaning, fixing the bed, straightening up the kitchen, etc. Finally the time came to go to work and I left the house with only the dirty bowls left to be washed and the dog left outside.

About an hour into work I realized that the house was not ready for my father to come visit. Aside from the dishes not being done and the dog now soaked from the sudden storm outside, I had left my boy toy on the bathroom counter to air dry and never put him away. Justin would be home already and my father would be there by the time I returned from work. Knowing that Justin was fond of using the guest bathroom for number two emergencies and my father would undoubtedly need to use the restroom after the drive, I was anticipating embarrassment all around. I called my roommate immediately. Justin didn't pick up so I couldn't warn him from entering the guest bathroom. I called Caley and gave her warning, but she was spending the weekend out of town and could do nothing to protect me from fate.

Fortunately, fate had my back. My father called to say that he was not going to come over that night. Still, Justin would be home. I awaited the end of my shift in a state of anxiety. There was a chance he would avoid using the guest bathroom altogether. If he did use it however, the strain on our relationship may be too much to bear. At 9:30 I rushed from work, rehearsing a light-hearted yet apologetic speech for my poor roommate to assuage any discomfort he may be feeling at the sight of my boy toy bold as brass on the front of the bathroom counter.

When I got home I immediately rushed into the bathroom and grabbed my boy toy from the counter and put him back in his place. Only after I had him safely and discretely stored again did I realize that my roommate was not in the house. His car was not in the garage, but the door had been unlocked, the lights had been on, and there was no note as to his whereabouts.

To this day, I don't know if he ever went in to that bathroom and saw that boy toy sitting there at a full salute on the counter or not. If he did, he has done a first class acting job keeping it to himself. Still though, he did run out of the house awful quick for no reason that evening. Eventually I learned he had gone to Home Depot and there will always be that suspicion in my mind that he went into that bathroom, looked at the counter, and immediately left the house in search of a place to reinforce his masculinity. Who's to say he didn't? He's not talking.