It was always the same.
When he went to bed at ten-thirty, Les left his bedroom door open. When he got up at two-thirty to use the bathroom, he closed the door on his return to bed. At six in the morning, he’d get up, get dressed and open the door.
“I hate walking past you sleeping when I go to the bathroom at night,” his new roommate complained. “I’m always tiptoeing so I don’t wake you up. Why can’t you just close the door?”
“It’s how I’ve always done it,” he replied.
“Then why do you close it after half the night?”
Les shrugged. “I feel safer.”
“So why not close the door when you go to bed in the first place?”
“That’s just how I’ve always done it.”
And so the argument went, over and over.
Finally, one night Les’ roommate thought he’d teach him a lesson and left his own bedroom door open, so when Les came home from his date, he’d see how uncomfortable it was to have to sneak around quietly so as not to wake the sleeping person across the hall.
Les’ ex-girlfriend had no trouble sneaking around in the dark. She hadn’t been to Les’ new place before, but she had a gun, and she knew the open door would be his.
Copyright 2005 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved.
Reproduction by any means prohibited without prior written consent.