Rubber Tarantula
Those who know me understand how much I love putting on a good surprise. For Brad’s 30th, for example, I got 50 of our friends to gather at The Mirabelle on the Sunset Strip on his actual birthday. When he walked in, they all yelled "Surprise!" and even filmed the moment to share with his family back in Pennsylvania. Not only that but I conspired with his sister, whom I’d never met at the time, to get her out here for his party. He had no idea what was going on and boy was he shocked.
Now I don’t tend to try to shock/scare/surprise him around the house, but only because the thought doesn’t even enter my mind. Somehow, I tend to accomplish this anyways.
Last weekend, Brad went to bed early (as usual) and I tried to go to bed at the same time. I lay awake next to him for almost an hour before I decided that his sweating and snoring all over me was too much to bear while conscious. So I got back up and finished reading my book in the kitchen. When I was done, I figured I’d pee really quickly before going back to bed.
So I’m sitting on the toilet and I hear Brad get out of bed and come towards the bathroom. Now, it’s pitch black and I know he can’t see me. So instead of waiting for him to whip it out and pee on me, I make my presence known by saying, "Hey Brad. I’m in here." You’d have thought I dumped a box of worms on him. He jumped five feet in the air, straight up and immediately started complaining, "You almost gave me a heart attack! Stop doing that to me!"
Yesterday, I was supposed to go lease some apartments in the valley but as I had been working the Creative Arts Emmy’s at the Shrine the night before, I didn’t get to bed until about 4am. So I woke up around 11am and was super groggy. I just wasn’t feeling having to get dressed and going to work all the way up in the valley, so I called my partner in crime up there to make sure he could handle it all on his own. Piece of cake. So I get on-line, because we all know I’m internet obsessed, and I’m sitting there checking my email at my dining room table in the buff.
Don’t sit there and judge me people! I know you all walk around your house naked too!
All of a sudden, my piece-of-shit cell phone starts ringing. It’s Brad calling from his cell phone. He’s just parked his car outside my apartment and is on his way up to check his email. I tell him, "I’m here - just checking my email." He thinks I’m at work. He doesn’t understand that ‘here’ means home.
I can hear him talking from outside my window and just assume that he knows what I’m talking about - that I’m right on the other side of the window. I turn off my phone and am now just answering his questions through the window. He’s oblivious to this. He still thinks he’s hearing me through his earpiece. When he opens the front door, he jumps and clutches at his heart. "Jesus Christ! Baby! Give a guy a heart attack why don’t you?! Why do you have to keep doing this to me?!"
I’m sorry, but it’s a sad, sad day when the sight of your naked body in your own freaking living room scares the living shit out of your boyfriend.
Damn.
