Friday the night
On Friday night, we did something totally different.
Cara organised a couple of friends to come over, sit on the couch and watch TV with us.
Social engagements to me have always been about doing something, this was the first time I was in a show about nothing, and I tell you, it was pretty freakin' rockin'.
The kids were sitting on our doorstep when we got home, waiting with their sad little abandoned faces. Cara and I used to live with Danielle, and we've come to know and love her partner Bruce, with them they brought a backpack of wine, biscuits and dips.
We chatted and chilled and laughed so much and did the hang out for ages before it was totally time for dinner. Cara and Bruce decided not to take their cold hard cash transportational devices, and I tried my best to hide Danielle's purse so I could pay for dinner. Cara and I had so far provided just the couches. Danielle, being quite the wiley hunter easily found her purse and I psyched myself up for the oncoming battle of payment to be held at the Thai Takeaway register.
We headed into the DVD place first, and Bruce and I shortly abandoned The Quest To Find The Perfect Movie to be all efficient and stuff to pick up the food down the road. With Cara being supersmart and pre-ordering, Bruce and I walked into the resturant to be greeted with so many smiles. A box of kittens has long been voted the cutest thing ever, but sometimes I think a box of Thai people would come a close second.
Anyway, battlelines were drawn. Two men. One bill. Bruce pulled out his cash, a $20 and a $50, I pulled out mine, also a $20 and a $50. The bill was $45. I suddenly and inexplicably reached down in my pocket and realised I only had my wallet. No house keys.
In my distraction, Bruce fiented to the left, parried and thrust the $50 at the waitress. My brain running several seconds behind I chucked my $20 at Bruce and left the resturant. Confused, he grabbed the food and followed.
"I think...." I started, checking all my pockets.
"..that we're locked out of the house."
Dudes are awesome. Instead of chucking a spazz, Bruce just smirked and asked the usual questions; does Cara have a key, do you have a spare somewhere, is the back door unlocked?
No, no and no. Cara didn't bring anything, I don't think.
Bruce and I, in all our smirkingness, went back to the DVD store where the girls had narrowed down to two. They asked our opinion, and we virtually ignored them as I hugged Cara and sneakily checked her pockets.
"What are you doing?" - Is she immune to ninja sneakiness?
"Just checking if you've got cash" I lied and smirked "To pay for the DVD, we're going to go back to the house."
Danielle objected, wanting help to make a movie decision, but we were out of there so fast. Cara didn't have her keys, and we only had minutes before the girls would be home. We walked with comical haste.
Sometimes when I leave the house, to go to the milkbar or something I don't lock the door. I was hoping this was one of those times. It was not.
We live in a townhouse that is surrounded by other townhouses. The backyards are all next to each other and are completely enclosed by other townhouses. I didn't remember opening the backdoor, nor leaving it unlocked, but to get to it, we'd have to be let into a neighbours house and climb over their fence to get in. It wasn't the best plan.
Being dudes with a problem, we took in all the details. Cara had opened the bedroom window a crack to let some air in after the hotness that had been the past few days. Her balcony door didn't look like it had been opened for a week or so. The front window wasn't unlocked at all.
"Try that top window." Bruce said as he grabbed the wheely bin. He helped me up on the bin, and then held his hands on a wall thing to give me a boost upto the next level. I pulled myself up. Before trying the window, I climbed over to the balcony to check that door, no dice.
Climbing back over to the window, I stuck my hand in, and was able to unwind it out further. It didn't go far, but being athletically trim has it's advantages. I was just able to squeeze in, my bum nearly got stuck, but all my body parts thought skinny thoughts and we pulled through. Bruce cheered from the ground level.
Expecting the police at any moment, I quickly ran downstairs, let Bruce in and we went about setting up for dinner.
Time to break in to our house: 25 seconds.
Police called: 0.
Gnarly cool scratches on chest, stomach: 3.
The girls, in their indecision got both movies and rocked up as we grabbed cutlery and drinks for some couch action.
Dudes solve problems.
Proud of our skillz, we regailed the girls with stories of heroics, physical feats, swift action and the fragility of our security.
The girls, impressed with our awesomeness wanted to know more.
"Why didn't you use my keys?"
"Ah, that's why I was checking your pockets, you didn't have them."
"Yes I did, in my back pocket."
Beat.
"What?"
Gah! Who keeps keys in their back pocket?
You can't sit down with that junk in your trunk.
It might be the hard way.
It might be unnecessary.
But Dudes solve problems.
3 Comments:
Are you sure you just didn't just want the opportunity to have a clandestine grope of the lovely Cara? Were you really checking for keys to the townhouse? Or for the keys to her heart? Hmmmmm?
(Of course, if you'd been searching for the keys to her arse you would have found the house keys immediately.)
Dudes solve problems.
You will find life is so much simpler for dudes if they just solve them with maths.
NO! We have one rule in our house (this also includes a 6 kilometre radius around the house). No solving crimes with maths.
Young Meva, are you implying/stating outright that I used problem solving to actually go for a grope of the supercute Cara? Hmmm, normally this is true, but there are some things that sit above Excuses For Gropeage: 1.) Pizza 2.) Avoidance of any situation where the ladies will have to eat dinnerz on the doorstep on a rainy, cold night which they may lead to imprintage of such a situation in their minds and remember it always, potentially bringing it up in a timely-fashion when a dude or similar is recalling a non-related story of heroics.
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