I’m in bed when I hear my roommate walk from her bedroom to the kitchen. Now I can’t sleep because I’m wondering what she’s up to at three in the morning. She’s the type of person to “mop” the entire kitchen floor with half a roll of triple-ply napkins instead of using well… a mop.
Next thing you know, I hear what can only be described as a full-grown grizzly bear mixed with Chewbacca snoring.
Dang, was she sleeping with her door open?
As if the snoring wasn’t enough, I then hear her stomping around as if Kirk Franklin literally asked her for the stomp, the whole stomp, and nothing but the stomp.
How many minutes until 6 am?
Thud! Bam! Boom! Silence. Welp, knocking yourself out is one way to stop snoring. I snuggle under the covers and attempt to fall back to sleep.
Ah, criminy. The grizzly Chewbacca snores resumed. I peep out my door to see that her door is closed. A glow was coming from the kitchen. If she was in her bedroom, who was snoring in the kitchen?!
Listen, Antoine Dodson said, “hide yo’ kids, hide yo’ wife, and hide yo’ husband ’cause they rapein’ everybody up here!” So, I hide in my closet and dial my roommate’s phone.
Was this intruder some formerly incarcerated man she was pen pals with (I done told you she was special) or were we being robbed by a sleepy criminal?
I heard her phone buzzing, but she didn’t answer. Was she screening my calls? I dialed again. No answer. Dang it Linda, you’re gonna sleep through the rapture?!
In case she was screening my calls, I decided to text her. “Do you have guests?” Send. Wait. Copy. Paste. Send. Wait. No response.
She might have been okay getting murdered in her sleep, but I wanted to L I V E!
So, I do the Christian thing and leave my hiding spot to warn her of the intruder. Yo, if this were a horror film, I was definitely dying first. And she was dying second.
I make it to her room without awakening our Bob the sleeping burglar, and together we dialed the police.
Three officers show up to remove the half human, half Chewbacca grizzly from our apartment. Turns out he wasn’t a burglar. He was just some drunk who mistakenly entered the wrong home.
While cleaning his mud tracks (WITH A MOP, AND NOT PAPER NAPKINS) I found and kept the intruder’s earbuds. That’s what he get for keeping me up at night.
Shout out to all the light sleepers. Please Do the right thing and try to wake some of us up for the rapture and intruders.
Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy. OniciaMuller.com