Part I is here: http://wp.me/s14q4r-boxers

I love to take naps. If you’ve spent time around me, you’ve probably seen it. A few weeks ago Tuesday was a free day–apparently October 20th is an important day in Guatemalan history, a revolution of some sort took place a while ago.

I woke up early (5:300ish) to go running with one of my buddies here, Andy. Best I figure, Andy somehow got a tiny bit of Gazelle DNA in his system, at least by the way he runs it seems like that’s the case. I need to go find me some Gazelle steak to eat. We got back at 7ish, ate food, he left and I ate some more food and read a book for a while. I didn’t have much success reading my book, as I really just wanted to sleep. I decided to crash for a nap in my room–Barcelona had a game against Copenhagen at noon, so I had a few hours to sleep. It was already a good day.

I slept like a log until I heard a door-sound. Here I’ll give you four relevant facts:

1. A cleaning lady comes by every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
2. There’s a bathroom right by my bedroom, and the bathroom door is loud. When someone goes into the bathroom, it almost sounds like my door’s opening. I’m used to it now, so I don’t worry much when I hear what sounds like my door opening, because usually it’s just someone using the bathroom. Besides, my housemates are all awesome at knocking-first.
3.  On a warm morning, after a hard early run, there is only one way to take a nap: boxers only (in the privacy of my room, of course. No indecent exposure, thank you very much)

…and number four, which I wasn’t aware of…

4.  Sometimes the cleaning lady comes on Tuesdays.

Yeah, you can probably see where this is going. So I woke up to what sounded like my door opening, but didn’t worry about it. Somebody was probably opening the bathroom door.

Then I heard footsteps in my room. Then I heard sweeping. She was sweeping the room. I was napping on my bed in my boxers and this poor soul, the cleaning lady, came in to clean. I thought and thought and thought…did she even notice me? What about my boxers? Even if she didn’t see my self on the bed, my boxers I was wearing, green polka dotted…are awfully hard to miss. This is why I usually wear pants over them. More footsteps, more sweeping. She lifted up my napsack in the corner of the room, swept under it, and put it back down. I didn’t move–I wondered to myself, maybe she just simply won’t notice me.

A little bit more sweeping, then suddenly a pause..and panicked gasp of air. Then very quiet but also very hurried footsteps, and the sound of my door closing very quickly. Then silence. The poor girl.

It was a week and a half before we saw her again.

In a not-very-surprising turn of events that followed, I was unanimously nominated to be the fill-in house cleaner till she came back.

The End.

Disclaimer:
This may or may not have actually happened. I say this because if it did happen, I’d like you to think it didn’t (no duh), and if it didn’t I’d like to not ruin the fun by having you think it didn’t. Your call.