The Crash of the Air Conditioner

I yell for her help as the air conditioner falls from the window onto my foot, like the Chicxulub asteroid hitting earth. The adrenaline pumps through my veins so I don’t feel a thing, but I am sure that when I open my eyes, if it has not been fully eradicated like the dinosaurs, my foot will certainly be flat and stretched out, like something smashed by an anvil in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. So as I look down at it I am relieved and surprised to find that my foot is just as it always has been, three dimensional and all. Then the pain starts and I scream as I fall to the floor. I roll around clenching my sore foot in my hands trying to feel for the broken bones. I am not feeling anything out of place, I guess that means nothing is broken. So, despite gravity’s weapon of mass destruction’s best effort, my foot is fine.

“Stupid fucking air conditioner!” I shout at the monster now sitting on the floor in front of me and think I should have … No, I did ask for help. A request that went ignored.

The throbbing on my foot starts to wane and is making room for anger, as I realize she is nowhere in sight. “What the fuck? What is wrong with this chick lately?” That’s it, this is the last straw. She has been acting weird for weeks, but ignoring my desperate shouts of pain, and my request for help is too much. What could she possibly be doing that has her so preoccupied she doesn't hear me screaming?

I struggle to my feet, favoring my aching foot, and storm, as best as a one footed man can, down the hall to her room. I stand at her door and I am about to knock, but no, she doesn't deserve a knock. I decide I am going to violate roommate rule number one. I grab the knob and push the door open and step inside.

The situation in this room hits me harder than the air conditioner, stopping me where I stand. I am not sure how long has gone by but I am in the same spot, with my mouth agape, blankly staring, unable to take in what I am seeing. Now, I don’t remember the last time I was in her room but I know it did not look like this. I mumble breaking my speechlessness, as thoughts begin popping in my head. I feel what I recognize as fear rushing through my body, and with it the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up in full alert. Then I see her. She sits there seemingly unbothered by my intrusion, in fact she barely looks away from her computer screen.

“What are you doing?... “ I say as I return to assessing my surroundings. Before she responds, I ask a different question “ Ummm Matty what’s going on in here?” words just keep falling out of my mouth unsupported by comprehension “This room is… its well…. … Are you okay?... its fucking crazy… this is crazy!!” I snap forcefully. Matty looks at me bewildered and stares. She is not saying anything, she is just grinning.“Yes I am okay! do you need something?” she says breaking a long silence. I grow more concerned.

I spin again and ask “why is every inch of your room covered in pictures of Anderson Cooper?” She starts to answer but I continue “I mean this is a little intense.” Without missing a beat, “haven't you ever been in love?” she asks free from the burden of doubt and not constrained by any inkling of embarrassment, that would acknowledge the oddity of this room. “You know, it’s like you just can't get enough of the person…” My shock answers for me and I snap “Matty these are pictures of Anderson Cooper, from the news. Do you even know him?” Responding with the certainty of a sales person on the home shopping network, I hear her say “Well what’s hard is a long distance relationship where the other person doesn't realize they're in a relationship with you.”

I must be portraying the absurdity of what she has just said on my face, because she fills the awkward silence with an attempt at reassurance, making an effort to, I guess, help me better understand. “I mean he will know once I get him into my loving arms again, right now he is just unaware of the intense connection we have, but he will of course recognize it.”

I am laughing and all I hear is just deep guttural laughter. My laughter, my laughter alone. She is not laughing, she does not see the humor in this because she is serious.

My foot comes back to mind and I look down at it. The pain is gone and I realize that it may not be flat like a cartoon, but this bitch is definitely looney.