"Bye. Have a great day!"
Kiss.
"You too. Don't forget to turn the air off."
Smack on booty.
"OUCH! I won't. Bye."
"Bye."
Door closes.
And I'm all alone. In Hustle's apartment.

The very first time I stayed at his apartment, months ago, Hustle left me there while he went to work. That first time was a disaster. I woke up. Heard him in the shower, and I thought to myself, "ohh I'll get up when I hear him turn the water off." Next thing I knew I rolled over, and heard nothing. Figuring he must be out the shower, I stumbled across the hall into the bathroom. After taking care of my morning tinkle, I walked toward the living room, fully expecting to see him there. Nope. Besides me, the apartment is empty. "Maybe he went to the store." I get back into his ginormous, comfy king size bed, and flip through the channels. 10 minutes. 20 minutes. 40 minutes. Enough time to watch a movie on HBO passes and still no Hustle. I call him. He answers the phone with "Damn you sleep late." Where are you?" I inquire. "I'm at work." "Well what time are you coming home?" I ask thinking, he owns the damn business he can come and go as he pleases, right??!! "Probably around 6." 6??? It's 11:00 in the freaking morning!!! Of course, I freak out. He tells me : Relax. Make yourself at home, run a bath, there's food in the fridge. movies on the table. Whatever you want. I'll be back before you know it" I paced the floor for a minute, pissed that I was stuck since I had no clue where the train station was and I wasn't going to "ask the doorman" to point me in the direction of the train as Hustle initially suggested. Then I thought about his offer. Relax. And I did just that. Instead of a bath, I took a long hot shower. So long that I looked like a light skinned version of a California Raisin and all I saw were swirls of light brown looking back at me in the fogged bathroom mirror. I raided his kitchen, made myself an adequate lunch, turned to HBO on Demand, watched a couple of movies I'd been meaning to see, took a nap, and relaxed. Ever since that first day, if he has to leave the house before me, its cool. I now know where the train station is located (like 2 blocks away), and I've become quite familiar with that particular train line.

What amazes me, and amazes many of my friends is the fact that he's okay with leaving me in his apartment. They can't believe I have full access to anything and everything: food, TV, his computer. They are even more amazed when I tell them, swear to them, that I don't snoop. I've never been that kind of person to look through some one's stuff. I've done it twice in my life. Both in college, and both with disastrous outcomes. I found exactly what I hoping I wasn't going to find. Ever since then I've never snooped. Primarily because I don't want anyone looking through my stuff. I once dated a guy who joked about reading my journal that I left on my coffee table. When I realized he wasn't kidding, I kicked his ass out of my apartment, and never went out with him again. Yes, I'm serious.

As my friends know, he's not the first guy who is comfortable with leaving me in his apartment. Whether it's for a few minutes or a few days, guys just seem to trust me in their humble abodes. Hustle and I have joked about it, and he says that he's not worried because of "all the cameras". I know he's joking because he's not that tech savvy, and he would have already clowned me about the day I was dancing and singing along with Prince on my IPOD in my bloomers. But I really am curious to know: why me??? Is there a look I possess, or something I've said in conversation that deems me trustworthy enough to leave by myself??? Do I not look strong enough to get the plasma screen TV off the wall and out of the apartment??? Is my purse too small to pocket the laptop???

What blows my mind even more is that we aren't "together" as in I wouldn't define him as my boyfriend. I don't have one of those. And I'm not currently in the market for one either. I'd written a while back on giving up on the whole love thing. Now, I'm not so sure but I see that for right now, love has no place in my life. I know the people I care about, and I know those that I love. But in terms of romantical love (flavor flav inspired use of the word romantic...hahahahhaa), right now, its not important to me. It doesn't seem to fit in my life, at least for now. When friends inquire about our status I say "we enjoy each other's company". We are both damaged goods who share time together without the pressures and demands of a "relationship". We respect each other tremendously, and like exactly what we have, regardless of what our friends may say. We are cool with the non-status status we have in each other's lives. But being a non status status person, I can't help but wonder why the hell would he be comfortable leaving my non status ass in his place? On a regular basis??

I'm not going to lie. I've been curious. But not curious to violate the trust bestowed upon me. He has been so open with me, why would I destroy that?? A girl I know asked me, "You don't look at stuff on his computer??" "HELLLL Noo" was my response. For what??? That's his personal stuff, none of my business. I'm just grateful he's okay with me using his laptop to write, to blog, to check my emails, and IM chat with friends in his presence and in his absence.

This phenomenon will never cease to amaze me. I've asked myself "Would I be comfortable leaving him in my apartment if I lived alone???" I don't know. Instinctively, instantly, emphatically, I initially answer "YESSS. I would have no problem!" But as I think about it, I'm not so sure. You know what I'm most terrified of him discovering? No not old photographs and letters. No, not the black velvet bag in the top drawer of my nightstand. If I were to leave Hustle in my apartment and he snooped, I would be devastated if he read the manuscript for my book. And I guess I treat his stuff as if it were the pages of my unpublished book. Sacred. And yes I always remember to turn the air off.