Picked up by Bronco Mike

Saturday night was supposed to be a chill night. And I guess in theory, it still kinda was. Catherine's guy friends decided to pregame before going out to the bars at our house (not much harm in that) and then left. I refused to go out with them (much to their false dismay, lol) due to my 'fun' from Friday night. So they left and I went to bed.

If I was smart that would be where the story had ended. But I wasn't smart because I forgot to lock my bedroom door. At 1:45, I was very abruptly awoken by Bronco Mike in my room trying to PICK ME UP while I was sleeping in my bed curled up in my sheets. And he tried to take me out of my room but was too drunk to lift me and walk simultaneously (such a blessing!). Being picked up by a drunk dude sure does wake you up shrieking, I promise you that (and I dont scream that much either). After I screamed and he put me down he said, 'But CARA-- It's so hot in here. Come downstairs with us! Come now!! It's so much cooler on the porch. Pleeeeeeassssee???????'

Sigh. To get him out of my room, I went downstairs where one of the boys (I forget which one), saw me, asked if he woke me up and then punched Mike (who was at that moment poking me repeatedly). The other guys said that they would control him and that I could go to bed. (Catherine, of course, was not home.) So I went upstairs for about 5 minutes to go back to sleep.

Which is then when I was woken up AGAIN. By the vuvuzella. (Sidenote: A vuvuzella is probs the third worst thing ever for me to wake up to. It's almost as bad as being woken up by a man trying to pick you up or by guys bleeding outside of your door). I went storming down the stairs, screamed at them to shut up, demanded them hand me the instrument, found all the iPods so they wouldn't start blasting the stereo and went back upstairs to bed. (I think this is when I texted Catherine saying the boys were back.)

Ten minutes later, I was woken up the third time by Bronco Mike. He tried coming in to visit me again but since my door was locked, he couldn't enter. Therefore, he desperately stood there outside of my door and pounded on it saying, 'CARA! CAAAARAAA! Cara! CARA! Open the door! OPEN! PLEASE??? Be my friend! CARA!' (At least this night he could remember my name unlike the first time I encountered him.) I got annoyed so I opened up. What did I open up the door to see??? Mike happily chewing away on a box of broccoli. Oh wait, correction: FROZEN BROCCOLI.

Yes, he was eating broccoli that came straight out of the freezer. I glared at him and asked him if he had asked to eat it. Like so many of the four year olds I have instructed, he looked guiltily away and said, 'No. Whose is this?' It was mine. Or was mine until he found it. His response, 'Oooooh ahhaahahah. Can I eat it, PLEEEEASSSSE?!?!' My response was, 'Isn't it a bit late for you to be asking me? Finish it and then repay me later.'

He was so excited he said, 'YAY! I'll give you a dollar later, I PROMISE! THANKS CARA!' And then frolicked down the stairs. I followed, saw that Catherine was back, and rolled my eyes at her. After that, I think I tried to stay awake for a bit longer but got so freaked out when they were kicking a soccer ball around that I decided I was just going to go to bed and give up trying to save the house.

Upstairs, I looked out my window and noticed that a police car was parked out on the street right in front of our house. The only thing I did was see it, lock my door, turn off my lights and pray that it wasn't actually there for our house. (Later, I found out it wasn't. There was a DUI and that's why he was out there. Bronco Mike also apparently started saying, 'FRONT ROW SEATS!! FRONT ROW SEATS!' all enthusiastically and at that point everyone freaked out at him and tried to get him inside. Not sure what happened after because I fell asleep.

I did learn though that most guys tend to freak out when a girl tells them that they were woken up the night before by a drunk guy trying to carry her out of her bed. So I may be more careful next time when telling one of these stories. Especially to public safety friends. Because then they look at me funny.

Moral of the story, kids: Lock your doors, hide your broccoli and your vuvuzellas and all will be fine in the morning.