Wishing Myself Invisible
A few years back, I left my apartment to head to work. About a mile down the road, I realized I forgot my lunch. I doubled back, and walked into the apartment to find my roommate, let's call him Bill, sitting on the couch watching porno, a blanket around his midsection and a stunned, what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-here look on his face.
Even without proper CIA training, it seemed apparent to me that I'd just walked in on my roommate jerking off, so, immediately repulsed and horrfied and queased out to the Nth degree, I looked away, stormed into the kitchen, yelled something inane like, "I just forgot my lunch so I'm going to get my lunch and here it is in the fridge so I'll just get it right now heh heh heh heh," and dashed out again.
There really is no etiquette for something like that. No standard "hey, what they hell are you doing jackin' off on our couch" kinda thing you can say to break the awkwardness. All you can really do is get the fuck outta dodge, and never, ever go anywhere near that blanket again.
Oh, and I moved out the next week.
Even without proper CIA training, it seemed apparent to me that I'd just walked in on my roommate jerking off, so, immediately repulsed and horrfied and queased out to the Nth degree, I looked away, stormed into the kitchen, yelled something inane like, "I just forgot my lunch so I'm going to get my lunch and here it is in the fridge so I'll just get it right now heh heh heh heh," and dashed out again.
There really is no etiquette for something like that. No standard "hey, what they hell are you doing jackin' off on our couch" kinda thing you can say to break the awkwardness. All you can really do is get the fuck outta dodge, and never, ever go anywhere near that blanket again.
Oh, and I moved out the next week.
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