Well Officer, it’s Like This…

OK, OK – I like to sleep naked.  I’m glad to confess that habit. I woke up the yesterday and realized I had the entire day off,  I was alone in the apartment, no roommate or roommate’s girlfriend to be concerned about, and I could do whatever I wanted. I decided to have something to eat and looked in the fridge only to find all the eggs gone, so my craving for an omelet was not to be fulfilled. I checked out the food closet and the only thing that looked even remotely edible was the can Chef Boy Ar Dee Beef Ravioli in Meat Sauce, a fav from my childhood. The gentlemanly part of me was thinking I should have cereal for breakfast and save the ravioli for lunch; because that’s what my mom, my girl, and every woman I have ever met would say to do. But hell, I’m a guy aren’t I? So what if it was only 8AM? I’m a man and we can break the rules now and then can’t we?

I nuked  the Beef Ravioli and decided to eat in the living room and check out the bird feeder while I chowed down. As I arrived at the couch carrying my plate of ravioli,  I suddenly realized I was still naked, and had a brief internal conflict. Should I sit on the couch naked? Once again the gentlemanly part of me realized it wasn’t really sanitary, people wore clothes for certain reasons, and sitting on the couch butt nekkid would really gross out my roomie’s prissy little girlfriend. I grinned and sat down. I put my feet up on the coffee table and balanced the plate of ravioli on my chest.

As I started to eat, I realized I had forgotten one of the important lessons from my childhood, and that is – Eat Your Ravioli And Meat Sauce With A Big Spoon Not A Fork. That is of course if you don’t want the sauce dripping all over you.  Well I was already seated on the couch, there were a bunch of unusual birds on the feeder, even a sparkling hummingbird, and I decided to rough it. I was glad I didn’t have on a shirt as the red meat sauce dripped through the tines of the fork and  covered my manly chest. I could wash my chest way easier than a shirt anyway.

As I finished my delicious meal I had to use the back of my hand to wipe my sauce stained chin, but thought nothing of it, because shower time was approaching. Just as I finished my last nourishing bite, the doorbell rang. Who the hell would be ringing my bell at 8AM? As I got up to see who was ringing the bell I stubbed my toe on the coffee table,  and as I hopped around I dropped my plate on the floor. In pain, and really upset, I peeked out the window to see the same two religious fanatics who always seem to wake me up early mornings after I had spent a frantic night on call at the hospital. I had told them several times NOT to ring my bell but here they were again. I yanked open the front door and growled, "GO AWAY!" and then slammed the door in their faces. I felt good, I felt powerful, a manly man protecting his turf from invaders,  – and then I realized I was still naked and my chest, chin and arm were smeared in spaghetti sauce. I know, I know it looked like blood, but it really was sauce.  And that, officer, is the God’s Honest Truth!