Just another Friday night

Last week-ish Jessica asked me to go to her apartment and let Tank, her dog, out (which means I have to walk Tank) because she hadn’t been home all day and she wasn’t going to be home until late and blah blah blah. I was in a grumpy mood so I heavily sighed okay fine (fiiihhhhnnne).

As I’m turning in to the parking lot of her complex these two people decide it’s the perfect time to cross to the other side of the parking lot but not quite cross and actually just skim the edge of the driving lane of the parking lot. Then this woman a couple buildings down walks out into the parking lot holding her dog and yelling to two new people who are also walking in the driving lane of the parking lot (no idea where they came from, I thought she was yelling at me at first). Apparently the parking lot is a popular place to congregate.

I’m not sure which reserved space is Jessica’s so I’m trying to look for a parking space without hitting any of the people wandering through the parking lot and of course there isn’t anything close except for the spot between the faded red, I have a small penis, truck and the rape van. I continued on.

Finally I park, get out of the car, quadruple lock the car, go up the stairs to her apartment, put the key in the lock, and it doesn’t work. I pull it out, look at the key, put it back in the lock, turn, and it still doesn’t work. Dammit! I only have a car key and her house key on my key chain so I know it’s the right key or maybe I didn’t get a key to her new apartment. Shit! I try it one more time and then I hear, meow. Hmmm, Jessica doesn’t have a cat. So I get out my phone to see what her apartment number is and it’s 2067. I’m at 2051. Whoopsie.

All the buildings in that stupid complex look the same so in my stress of finding a parking space I must have gone one building too far. I walk over to the “correct” building, go up the stairs, and…. it’s apartment 2063. I go back down the stairs and into the parking lot (I see the attraction now) to text Jessica.

Me: So… the people that live in 2051 have a cat and fortunately they are also not home to let it out.

Jessica: Oh man

Me: What is your apartment number?

Jessica: 2063

Me: I have it wrong in my phone.

Jessica: What did you have?

Me: I have 2067

Jessica: That’s my old one

Clearly I need to update the contacts in my phone. So I go to Jessica’s actual apartment, use the key on my key chain, gain access to her apartment and get Tank on his leash for a walk. Tank sniffs and pees on everything. I take in the grandeur of apartment life. It’s lovely.

Me: 2051 came home

Jessica: That’s good where is 2051?

Me: Next bldg down

We’re heading back to Jessica’s apartment and this scary biker looking guy (he might be very nice but I’m judging because I’m traumatized from the experience) carrying (and drinking) a big plastic jug of yellowish liquid comes over to say hi to the “little guy”. Me, “Ummm, I don’t know if he’s nice. You probably shouldn’t… ” and biker dude gives us a little wave and veers off in another direction. I could just see Tank biting this guy and him throwing the battery acid he was drinking at me and then shanking me. Fortunately we made it back to Jessica’s apartment unscathed, I locked up the dog and the apartment and headed back to the parking lot.

Me: I’m going to check on the cat in 2051 and then head home.

Jessica: Ok

She just doesn’t get me.

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