The Tinkler

While living in Manhattan, I used to go to down my parent’s house on the Jersey Shore. One weekend, I met a cute, fit, super-tanned, bro-ish state park lifeguard at a bar. Besides the bro-ish aspect, he seemed harmless. Also, I found out that he was attending graduate school the next year down in D.C., so I concluded that education-wise, he was cool. He was planning on visiting the city the next week to see his brother, so I told him to give me a call and we would meet up.

As planned, he was in touch the next Wednesday evening. I told him to meet me and some of my friends at an apartment party near Union Square. He showed up seeming fairly intoxicated, however I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt since it was only the second time I had met him. After a few hours and many shots later, he was officially plastered and extremely unfamiliar with his surroundings- he didn’t remember where his brother lived. Being the nice girl that I am and having no other choice I decided to bring him back to my place. My best friend was worried about the situation and decided to come home with me for moral support and protection- as well as an herbal refreshment.

Upon arriving, this bro-ish gentleman decided to climb in and take over my entire bed. As my best friend and I sat at my windowsill, smoking cigarettes we wondered how I would manage to sleep that evening. As the sun started to rise, we decided that he was passed out cold and there was no imminent danger, so it was probably best for my friend to go home (we both had work in a few hours). I put on some shorts and t-shirt and *tried* to get into bed, but barely fit on the sliver that was unoccupied by my snoring guest. I made do and eventually fell asleep.

A few hours later I awoke to my guest announcing: “Uhh oh… I think I tinkled your bed.” Without hesitation, I sprung up (without even looking at my lifeguard guest) ripped the DRENCHED sheets off my bed, furiously handed them to him- along with my comforter- and directed him to the dry cleaner outside to the left of my building. Feeling bad and trying to say he was sorry, I told him to leave and reiterated that the dry cleaner was to the left of the building.

A few days later I went to pick up my sheets and comforter and was appalled that my “Tinkling Guest” didn’t even pay for the damage he had caused! Without hesitation I got his email address off of Facebook, tallied up my costs for the dry cleaning, new mattress cover and new feather bed cover and sent it to him. Explaining that I was a plebian living in Manhattan, I refused to pay for his misfortunes- especially when they ended up in my bed. He was nice enough and sent me a check in the mail.

Let me just say that my attraction to him waned when he showed up at my party wasted, but when those dreaded words having to do with “TINKLING” my bed left his mouth- all attraction was permanently extinguished. Thank goodness that he was moving to D.C. so that I never had to run into him again!


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