In short, I'm living in a new house with sober guys. Half past midnight, I come to my new home after work, put away my bike, dress for bed, and pray for those less fortunate. Having only to relieve myself before crashing in bed, I dress somewhat appropriately. Opening the door of my bedroom, I run into a beautiful half-naked dish-water-blonde, whom I can only assume is the owner's girlfriend. She's got the same idea I do, which is dash to the
bathroom as fast as possible. Dressed in only a man's flannel shirt, she smiles and apologizes. I shut the door in embarrassment instead of introducing myself.
I think, this place is not that bad.