It Was As If I Weren't Even There

So, I spent the night at a girlfriend's home. The night before, she had warned me that the maid would be there early the next a.m. "Cool", I said, "I need to get up and start my day early anyway".
I had no clue what kind of assault was taking place when I was awakened in a dark room by the sound of rushing water and a Mexican woman talking loudly on the phone over the noise of the laundry machines in the corner closet. She had also turned on the recessed lights of the ceiling -- I was feeling like a fast-food french fry on standby. After I realized where I was, what time it could be, and who was making the best part of the day into the worst for me... I stuck my left arm out from beneath the covers as an elephant's trunk would scan the area to sniff out the action outside of my realm -- one of my arms should inform her that there's somebody else in the room.

A coupla agonizing minutes of noise elapse and I peek out to see who speaks this version of Spanish that I don't understand. I can't see her face, as her back is turned to me. The blinding lights cause me to retract my head but to leave my arm out, hoping she would see this periscope without any vision.

Maybe she did, maybe she didn't. It was a minute or two more before she turned off the lights and exited the master bedroom. I wondered to myself why she didn't start her day by working on another client's home.

It's on the list.

An Inconvenient Tooth

We all know about Al Gore and his crusade to save the environment.
We all know that I need braces. But, did you know that it's really just one tooth that has moved inward after being crowded by the others? Either way, I'm sure people notice and instantly devalue my intelligence (that's how we operate, folks) the bottom line of front teeth don't look so great... and will be easily fixed for $5,000.
I call it "an inconvenient tooth".

How could I ever explain that from my grave?

I'm on the cellular, flying down the highway, talking to a client.
She's giving me her brother's phone # at work. I'm fishing around for my notepad and pen that are always within reach... I find the pen... and I can't find any paper. Now, she notices that I'm driving and we discuss the various laws and safety while I search for paper. Anything! I grabbed the only thing I could -- and I had already passed over it several times -- a condom box. I was laughing while writing some guy's name and phone # on a box of condoms, hoping I could make it home to transfer the info and scribble over my 70mph note before I died and it was found by my survivors.