Night of the Ex-Whatever Convergences

Could a representative from the Universe kindly explain to me what the f**k was going on last night? Why it was that two of my most vexing and saga-esque ex-whatevers decided to make themselves present in my life?

Remember over a year ago when I penned an educational missive for you all on why people lock their doors? For those of you who weren't HP readers at the time, the reason people lock their back doors is: to keep unwanted characters out of their homes. Because sometimes a drunk ex decides it would be a good idea to crash somewhere in your home even though he's been told a million times that he is never welcome in your house ever again.

Yet sometimes, even locking one's doors can't guarantee your security. Sometimes a person decides to bust down your door, tearing the frame and decimating the lock all because they are too cheap to pay for a cab home. Note to drunk men in DC: Baby Jesus gave us taxis for a reason--to transport your drunk ass home from Adams Morgan because at the age of 32 you still haven't learned what your tolerance level is.

I suppose I should have taken his three text messages and two drunken voicemail messages as a warning. The one about all the crazy, dirty awful s*x we could have if he came over was hilarious enough for me to save for 46 to listen to later, but I naively thought that if I ignored him, he'd go away. Not you know, that he'd inflict costly damage on to my house for the sake of finding a place to sleep for the night.

I also should have personally escorted him from our home rather than trusting he'd make his way out, as he completely spooked one of my other female roommates. At least the message I received from him this morning (left at 4-something am) telling me he'd left his cell phone somewhere in our house was a small consolation prize.

While all this was happening, another ex-whatever was texting me to ask me "whatcha doin?" Of course, the logical response to such a question very early on a Thursday would be "sleeping", not say, "fending off the advances of drunken exes who break into people's houses late at night."

While all of this is very annoying and jarring, I do understand that in the long run, I have little to complain about. I know that my situation will never be as bad as that of an acquaintance who had somebody bust into her home in the middle of the night about a year ago, to very different and far more unsettling ends. Still, I can't help but think of how often we take our perceived security for granted. How often I sleep with my window wide open, walk home from the metro alone after dark, or fall asleep at night convinced that merely a locked door can keep the potential dangers of the world at bay.