(no subject)

It's ten till midnight. I'm sitting here in my living room, trying to think about Chateaubriand, and somebody starts pounding on my front door. Turns out it was a guy who said he'd been locked out of his friend's apartment and wanted money for a hotel. He was nice about it, and I don't have any money, and nothing untoward happened, but now I still wonder "what if...".

He had a lit cigarette and now my hair smells like secondhand smoke. I guess I take a shower before I go to bed.