ExposedNYC

Last night I attended Rugby’s birthday celebration, which started with a trip to “Rock and Roll Karaoke” at Arlene’s Grocery on the lower east side. This is an awesome event, where anyone can get on stage with a live band backing them, as long as they choose one of the rock classics from the extensive song list. Frequented by aspiring musicians and metal heads alike, it’s a chance for anyone to find their inner rock star.

The group was a few drinks in by the time I arrived, and I was relieved to see Rugby already draped over a girl he’s been dating off and on, and who I’d met on a few previous occasions. I said my hellos and got him a birthday drink before settling in to flirt with Fred for the rest of the evening. I could see from the look on his face when he saw me that this was going to be a rain check for last Friday.

So, as the night dwindled on and Rugby stumbled off with his girl, Fred and I danced around the question of when to admit were spending the night together. He had recently moved in to a new apartment and was sharing a room with friend, which in the world of exorbitant New York rents is not as uncommon after college as it sounds anywhere else in the country. Confident that his roommate was staying with his girlfriend and working early, he invited me to his place.

Unfortunately, he was wrong. His roommate, a goofball stand-up comedian, was home, quite intoxicated, and surprised to see us. He didn’t bat an eye at the idea of me staying the night, and admitted he would pass out within a few minutes. Then Fred and I were left with the inevitable dilemma- were we comfortable enough to fool around with someone else in the room?

Much to his disappointment, my answer was no. I climbed into bed in pajamas and for about an hour ignored any advances from Fred that showed he obviously wasn’t fazed by our close proximity to an unconscious man. I just couldn’t relax knowing that if I did decide to give in, that his roommate would inevitably wake up when we were in the most compromising possible position. Not to mention, it just seemed inappropriate. I’m not sure if there are etiquette laws dictating proper behavior in this situation, but I know that if roles were reversed, I would appreciate the same courtesy.

Ignoring my total disappointment at our situation, I managed to fall asleep, but awoke to the torturous announcement that his roommate was not working that morning. As I tossed restlessly next him, I finally realized the perfect solution to privacy in a crowded apartment- the bathroom. As I whispered to Fred the benefits of a locked door and a shower, his eyes lit up.

I had solved our dilemma, and managed to make the trip home to my apartment a little more bearable while wearing yesterday’s clothes. The next time we’re put in this situation, I’m requiring a copy of his roommates work schedule before making any further plans.

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