Thankfully, I am not one of those people that has an inordinate amount of embarrassing things happen to them. I have friends like that, and as a result they handle public humiliation very well. I manage to stumble through without blushing too often. But it happens.
Last year, our apartment was like an endless stream of Krystal's friends. It still is, but to a much lesser extent. People would come into our living space at all times, people we had never seen before. If I was feeling fiesty, I would make some sarcastic comment about whether or not they knocked, and it always went over their heads. These people had a sort of free reign over our apartment, because Krystal was very gracious with her and our things.
There was one day where I did laundry, but for some reason or another, I didn't or couldn't dry anything. So I just hung everything up in my room to try, off furniture, from the ceiling fixtures - nowhere was safe. It looked like I actually wanted to decorate my room with underwear and t-shirts. Then I went to bed and left it.
The next day, I had to work fairly early and didn't have a chance to take down my cotton decorations. When I got home, lo and behold, I found two of Krystal's male friends in my underwear-strewn room, using my computer.
I had a little talk with Krystal that day, and people are not allowed in my room when I'm not there anymore, regardless of the state of my underwear.
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