so last night and today i packed up my suitcase because the landlord had told me i was going to change rooms. she said i’d be sleeping in 401 tonight and tomorrow night. well, i waited in my room pretty much all day for someone to come and, i dunno, put me out? give me a key for the new room? something. nobody came, so i got ready and went out just before 9pm for my going away festivities. you know, a little tapas here. a little dancing there. some tinto de verano for the last time. it was all good until i got back to the crib…shortly after which, the mierda hit the abanico.
the mierda of which i speak is something i’ve been feeling really guilty about: friend stealing. i mean, it wasn’t so much that i stole scarlett from miko as it was that she and i hit it off moreso than, i guess, scarlett and miko had. we had class together every day, we had some things in common, and, let’s face it, our spanish is on a much higher level than miko’s. and it’s not even just because of the accent issue. (it’s hard enough to make sense of what’s being said to you in spanish without also having to make sense of, for example, “sorucion” being said instead of “solucion.” feel me? i’m not trying to clown; this is just a brutal truth.) but at the bottom of everything remained, for me, the nagging recollection that miko had introduced me and scarlett.
now, maybe it was scarlett’s responsibility and not mine to include miko in outings, but for my part, i intentionally never mentioned in conversation with miko that scarlett and i were hanging out. including tonight when she asked me where i had been (“en un club terrible,” i replied, instead of saying “con scarlett”). i did this because i felt guilty. i felt like a friend stealer, even though i would have met scarlett with or without miko’s involvement. anyway, this brings me to tonight’s travesty of justice…
…when i got back to the crib, there was a new note from the landlord. this one read, in spanish: “kyoko in room 403 has the key. if you want, you can sleep in the living room (on the second floor). she also has the key for that room. either way, ask kyoko.” so okay, scarlett is waiting downstairs for me to bring her something, but it’s already really late and i want to see if kyoko is actually up. she is, and i ask for the key, thinking this is a quick transaction. while she’s getting it, i notice that the door of room 401 is ajar, and i take a peek into it. i note that there are two twin beds but no fridge, and i comment on the no-fridge thing. kyoko’s reaction to this is, essentially, “oh—no, no—that’s not for you anyway. you’re sleeping in the living room. here’s your key, sucker.”
me: *blank stare*
after a great deal of back-and-forthin’, into which miko firmly inserted herself, i started feeling really fucked over. miko is claiming, in her horrible spanish, that not only did i not answer the original note from the landlord (which simply said i could stay in room 401 saturday and sunday nights) but i also wasn’t there at my original room when the landlord showed up. which, clearly, was late at night, after i went out. *sighs* this all seems to me just a pretense; what really seems to have happened is that the japanese chicks banded together to exclude me from sleeping in room 401, one bed of which was now occupied by a new, chubby japanese chick with whom they had naturally forged an alliance. God only knows what kind of conversation there was about me that created this unified Jan Ban on room 401, but i’m surely better off not knowing.
anyway, when i got back downstairs and explained my delay, scarlett was having none of it. she was like, they want you to sleep where? oh, hellz no. so she marches in and now it’s like a KGB face-off against the Yakuza. in the end, it is agreed upon by everyone, particularly my current next-door-neighbor japanese dude (who is the person that will be moving into my current room tomorrow) that i sleep in my same room tonight. it is agreed upon by everyone, that is, but miko, who now realizes that i was out at “a terrible club” with scarlett. now she’s super pissed. it probably didn’t help that scarlett was like, “you should just pack your shit and come stay at my place.”
after scarlett left and i went to my room, miko came back to square off with me again. this time over my agreed upon departure time of 8am. now alla sudden it seems miko is responsible for changing the sheets in the room. so now i need to be out by seven, not eight. because i guess making a bed is, like, an hour-long origami-type sheet folding process for her. i don’t feel like fighting anymore, though, so i say fine, that i’ll be out by seven. now—are you ready for this? she then replies, “no, six.”
me: *gtfohwtbs stare*
i laughed. i was like, “miko, i’ll be out at seven.” she was like, “no—six.” now i’m really pissed. (side note: a raised temper really seems to smooth out my foreign language skills. there was a moment amidst this debacle when i realized, holy crap, i am speaking the bejeebus outta this spanish.) so now, to miko, i’m like, “who are you anyway to be telling me when to go and where? i’ll be out at seven, miko. good night.” she just stood there. i was like, “that’s it. good night.” i thought i was gonna have to close the door in her face but she finally relented and walked away with an eye roll.
now i’m scared i have angered the yakuza. so what exactly is it that the yakuza does to people? 😦