A Roger Brown Cityscape

Like every other day, today I learned something new: I fill all the requirements of "babysitter's creepy boyfriend." Here's how it went:
Lucy babysits twins who are two years old.
Exhibit 1: Warranted Dirty Looks
One parent is Irish and has bleach-white skin while the husband is Indian and has pretty dark skin. When we took the kids to the zoo, people looked at the four of us as if Lucy and I were the parents. This is conceivable: I'm 22 and I've been mistaken for being a few years older. Regardless of how old I look, though, I think what really drew the dirty looks was the unshaven face, tattooed arms, and old, dirty shoes.
Exhibit 2: The Guy on the Couch
I thought I had these kids on my side. I held them up to get a better view of the tiger, I kept the beat with my hand on my knee as they butchered "Row, Row, Row Your Boat," and I let them try on my fancy helmet and showed them how the visor shoots into place when you press a certain button. When I left, everyone was happy.
Fast-forward through my night. A few shots of cheap whiskey and several PBRs becomes 3:30 in the morning and I show up at the house where Lucy's babysitting. In my hand is a bag and in the bag is yellow curry with chicken from Late Night Thai (when I picked it up, the guy at the counter remarked, "three nights in a row, huh?"). On my breath there is liquor and in my wallet there is... less than I had hoped for.
I ate sitting on the floor under a few stray rays of light that came from the stairway. Lucy was in bed a few feet away and trying to sleep. I couldn't finish the potato aspect of the dish before my drunken brain led me to bed and haphazardly spilled my body, luckily, on the mattress.
(Resume forward motion at a tolerable speed)
It's noon. Or maybe it's 5 PM. Did I miss work? Am I running late? Does Bekki hate me? The boy-twin is asking about the reappearance of my shoes and helmet while I'm half-jokingly hiding under the blanket on the guest-bed. Taking a peak and noticing the emptiness of the room, I sit up and down the second half of the can of Coke that had gone unfinished with my meal.
I've been detected! Cameron (the boy-twin) asks, "Is he waking up?" One thing I've noticed with young kids is that if you answer their questions honestly and very matter-of-fact-ly, the interrogation tends to end right there. Remembering this, I reply (regardless of whom the question was directed at), "Yep!" He starts with another question but is quickly rushed into a different train of thought by Lucy, who recognizes the awkwardness with ease.
At the next interval between children noticing me, Lucy handed me her keys and sent me to her place. On my walk over I realized that it was only 9 in the morning. There was sleep to be had! That's when I remembered the Coke I drank, and for a second worried that I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. That fear was quickly dispelled, though, as I passed out until 2 in the afternoon.
Turns out I had woken up and left just in time to be 10 minutes late to work. Sweet!
Tomorrow will mark a return to a normal schedule. This will include working 5 days a week, going to school 4 days a week, trying to walk Toby every day, and somehow fitting the ol' family, girlfriend, and friends in the cracks. This kind of schedule makes me wonder why I buy records and books and instruments when I won't have time to use any of them in the foreseeable future. Hm...
So tonight... last night before school. It's looking like a good night to shave my face. And buy cereal from Dominick's. And maybe some more Late Night Thai. The possibilities are endless.