Jul. 19th, 2003

raybear: (sushi!)
I was warned that my apartment would be shown at 12:30 pm today. Since I stayed over at [livejournal.com profile] dommeyourass's last night, I decided just to not be home at that time. I got home around 2 o'clock and proceeded to make myself at home, since I was there after all. A few minutes ago, someone knocks at the door. Luckily I'm at the computer which is approximately eight inches away from it. As I'm standing up, a key starts to unlock it.

Oh, at this time I should mention that all I'm wearing is jeans.

I yell frantically "just a minute!", grab Sophie, throw her in the bedroom, grab a shirt and put it on. Then I open the door with my arms folded across my chest to hide the lack of binding. It's hard to shake hands with a realtor while doing this, but I somehow managed. I excused myself after letting them in, then went to throw on my binder and pick up Sophie, figuring it best to just hold her during the tour.

They didn't stay long and they were pleasant. I was still annoyed that the apartment person didn't give more notice. I'm not talking 24 hours here, I'm saying maybe hit the buzzer on the way up the stairs, or I don't know, wait until you get a RESPONSE after knocking before busting in. I mean, I'm a trans guy who likes to sit around in various state of nakedness, who likes to have sex in various rooms of the apartment and has people over who like to sit around in various states of nakedness.

But then I think, well, maybe they just get what they deserve if they come crashing into my big queer party. I have a feeling it would only take one awkward sighting for them to learn to call first.

Or maybe I should go downstairs where their office is and ask them to do it, avoiding any possibility of awkward exchanges.

Last night I had an extremely decadent dinner on top of fabulous conversation with [livejournal.com profile] dommeyourass, [livejournal.com profile] keetbabe, and [livejournal.com profile] mrmturtle. Tonight I have dinner with Miss Rook then we'll be attending the Burlseque Show. One could say that this weekend I'm living the high life, and they might just be right.

May 2010

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