AN ACCOMODATING MAN

When I left the house shortly after mid-day, my roommate was zonked out on my bed, curled up with a teddy bear, a degenerate monkey, a froad (i.e. "weird green flippery guy"), several other beasts, and a book about the sexual shenanigans of British royalty.
Her back aches, and it's close to her monthly period. She's in discomfort, and kinda tired.

According to my calculations, the menses are actually due to hit this Wednesday, although they have been one or two days early in the past.
I'm figuring her current cycle at 27 days.
Yes, I'm keeping count - I'm a Dutchman, and I'm neurotic.
Even though it's none of my business, it's good to know these things.

[She's my roommate, but we used to be more involved with each other. That ended quite a while ago. Regarding the cycle-count, I may have mentioned that I'm both neurotic and Dutch - those two characteristics overlap considerably, though not all Dutch are neurotic, and many neurotic people are not actually Dutch. They just as well could be.]


CROWD OF ROWDY FURBALLS

My bed is the larger one in the apartment. It accommodates many more stuffed animals than hers. Though she, being a very slender person, does not cramp them for space when they're over on her side.
Some of them are hers - kitten, teddy bear, froad (the 'WGFG'), cat, small bovine, orange beaver, vampire guinea pig, she-sheep, pervert serpent, and most of the frogs - some are mine: monkey, sock-sheep, big black spider, Steiff raccoon, and all the degenerates.
Plus three dysfunctional teddy bears, a psychopathic hamster, and the odd penguin or two.
It is interesting that she seeks out my critters for comfort.
Partly, I think, because they are rowdy and argumentative.
Anarchists with criminal tendencies, admittedly, but very social.
How I ended up with all the rioters I do not know.
For I myself am a very gentle man.
Quiet and soft-spoken.
Even-keeled.
Calm.


You may stop laughing now. You've made your point. Really, it's rather rude to burst into loud peals of sneering hilarity while someone else is talking.


Actually, I don't know how comforting the WGFG can be at present. Lately he's been venomously speculating about eating the monkey's brain, though he fears it will taste all nanky, and there probably isn't very much there.
But the monkey deserves to die, and he, the FROAD, is determined that the demise will be soon, cruel, and bloody. Stupid monkey, chop you!
The monkey has been making fun of the froad's gas problem, you see.
It's all been very hurtful, and both of them are upset.
Loudly and operatically so.

Given all that going on, in my bed nota bene, you will grasp why I came to the office today.
It's just too darn noisy at home. What with her sleeping and all.
The office is nice and peaceful. I daydream at my desk.
I do the same when the apartment is empty.
I often spend all weekend here.

On the way down I stopped by a bakery in Chinatown and picked up some snackies.
I doubt that she'll have the energy to cook herself something to eat.
A cup of hot milk-tea and a pastry should be just the ticket.
At the very least it will give her the energy to return to her own room and apologize to the other roomies for being gone all day.



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