"Mmmfph-lo", I grunted, answering the phone.
"Joey, I need your help. Were you up?” the voice said, way too loudly, in my not yet truly functioning ear.
"Who is this?” I asked, looking at the clock, my brain making the connection that those numbers meant it was still the middle of the night.
"It's HSNB, can you come pick me up?"
Thoughts start racing as the brain kicks into gear. Airport? Did I forget something? Accident? Hospital? If not, he will be for waking me up. Wait, maybe he's dead. Ummm. I need to stop watching Ghost Whisperer. "Where are you?"
"I'm at [address]. I don't have my keys. Can you come get me?” he said, the pleasing in his voice melting whatever anger I was feeling.
"Alright, I'll be there in about 20 minutes,” I said.
I hopped out of bed. Okay hopped may be too enthusiastic of a term for that time of night/morning. I guess stumbled would be more appropriate. I got dressed and headed out. He was in a neighboring town, not really close, but only about 15 minutes away. I didn't really recognize the address, but I found it without too much difficulty. I pull up to the curb outside of an apartment complex. I didn't see him anywhere. And all I can think is, I am going to kill him.
Just like a horror movie, he knocks on the passenger side rear window and I scream out. Scared the hell out of me. I unlocked the doors, and he climbs in. The first thing I notice is, he is only wearing underwear and shoes. Okay now this has become a scene out of a whole different movie.
He explained that he had gone back to this girl's apartment. He met her that night in a club, and she was "smokin' hot". I assume that is straight for very attractive. They got back to her place, had a drink, and were making out when she started to get a little rough. This part he seemed okay with. But when they got into the bedroom, from what I could piece together because he was talking very fast, she got a lot rough. And a lot freaky. I'll spare you all the details but there was hot wax, belts, and a knife involved.
He basically said no, but she kept pushing, then threatening, then started hitting him, and he ran out with just his shoes, his wallet, and his cell phone (which he always puts in his shoes he explained - I have learned not to question such things). When asked as to why he didn't get his other stuff, he explained she was throwing things, and breaking things, all the while screaming at him to - I'll translate for the more delicate of you - to kindly leave the premises immediately.
When we got back to our complex, I told him he could just stay at my place.
"I can't. I need my insulin," he said, "and it's in my house."
"But you left your keys behind, so we can't get it. In the morning we'll call a locksmith."
"No, I need it now; I'm feeling a little shaky. We'll have to break into my house."
At 3:30 in the morning. A Sunday morning. Easter Sunday morning. Why me? to be continued
