Something awful happened to me the other day and I have been obsessing about it.

I work nights and am asleep most of the day. When I have to be awake past 9:30 in the morning it takes a toll. Well last week I had a couple of days where I had to be up until noon because of work related meetings. By Friday morning I was pooped. This particular Friday morning I had some errands to run and thought this was a good time to have the maintenance staff at my apartment community fix the garbage disposal that had been malfunctioning for weeks.

When I came home, I could tell that the maintenance guy had been in the apartment and in my half-stupor I assumed that he was done. I put a movie in the DVD player and went to sleep on the daybed in the living room.

The movie in question was Bruce La Bruce's Raspberry Reich. Those of you familiar with the work of Bruce La Bruce, fringe film director and agent provacateur(that's French for sh*t starter), know that his films are controversial for their subject matter, their very pointed commentary on society, and the fact that most of his movies contain a lot of medium-core gay/bi porn.

Some time after I had fallen asleep, there was a knock on my front door. Not an unusual occurrence considering that I have what is probably an internet shopping addiction. (Ebay is my main man but I have been known to cheat on ebay with Amazon.com).

I turned over on my daybed, figuring that if it was a delivery the guy could leave it at the office for me to pick up later,and tried to go back to sleep. Bear in mind that the movie is still playing.

Fast forward to the middle-aged, apparently very traditional,
Latino maintenance man walking in while two young and gifted
German actors were on screen performing unspeakable acts- which unfortunately they were not simulating. Pan to me fumbling for the remote control, powering off the offending image a second too late. I felt like the perv or all pervs (and it wasn't even real porn) as I observed the disgust laden discomfiture of the man coming back to finish the work on my garbage disposal. I wanted to scream in my defensse, "I'm not dirty. It's an art film!"

As the maintenance loped to the kitchen, refusing to look me
in the eye; I retreated to my bedroom in shame.

I think our relationship has reached a new level and I am going to have to serve him sooooo much attitude to over compensate for my humiliation.

To add insult to injury; I'll be damned if my bedroom ceiling fan didn't go out today.