It's strange the memories that arrive out of nowhere. Strange, yet largely innocuous memories that still make me want to shake my head and go, What the fucking fuck?
In the first semester of my ill-fated attempt at a PhD (I got disillusioned and left after two semesters) I shared a house with some other students. This was near UK, in Lexington, Ky, and the house was in nearby Transylvania Park.
I had the first room, downstairs, as soon as you enter. Unfortunately, a couple of my housemates were undergrad party kings and they would come back drunk and invariably leave the front door open. Safe, right?
One night...or rather early morning around 3, I am fast asleep, in my room, when I hear the loud roar of a true redneck pick-up, revving really loudly right outside my window. I turn over and try to sleep.
The front door slams open. I think it's one of my lush roomies and mentally calculate how long I have left on my lease.
Heavy footsteps, slurred speech. The guy is calling someone, tripping over his words, so I can't understand a thing.
He pounds on my door. Like I am letting him in. He pounds and pounds and then cusses.
Then I hear it. The unmistakable sound of drunken peeing. Right on my door. It went on forever. He sighed in relief, said something else unintelligble and left.
I peek out from the side of the blinds. It's some fifty-year old, fat dude in a cowboy hat. He climbs into his bright red truck and takes off, none too steadily.
I am still stunned this many years later.
I broke my lease early and refused to pay a penalty. I also made the landlord clean up the huge amount of yellow, frothy, smelly pee that had gathered outside my door, forcing me to leap over it as I went to my early morning class.