Last night I got back from a Tartuffe rehearsal at about 9:15 PM. The door was unlocked, which is not how I had left it--just because there's a strict honor code at this colleges does not mean that everyone will abide by it, and I do not want to risk having my laptop, Wii, fridge, et cetera stolen. I did not fret however; I assumed my roommate had returned to the dorm and was inside. Indeed, when I opened the door, I saw that the lights were out and his bed was occupied, blankets fully drawn, face to the wall. It looks as if Ed went to sleep early again, I observed as I sat down at my desk and switched on my laptop's power. I plugged in some headphones and listened to the Who for an hour as I talked to crazy Shilo via IM and browsed reports on BZ.

Just before 10:00, my cell phone rang, blaring the opening riff of "Beautiful Girls" by Van Halen (I'm actually considering changing the ringtone to the guitar riff in "Bohemian Rhapsody's" fourth movement, or perhaps the bassline of "Money" by Pink Floyd). It was my mother. I quietly picked up my keys and stepped outside as I answered the phone, not wanted to wake up my roommate.

The phone conversation was short; it lasted about ten minutes, and I promptly returned to my room. When I stepped inside, I noticed that Ed's bed was now empty, though he was nowhere to be seen. I assumed he had woken and gone to the restroom. Five minutes later, he appeared in the doorway. He looked exhausted, and was carrying a sport water bottle. Laughing, I pointed out the absurdity of carrying a water bottle to the bathroom with oneself, assuming it was somehow due to his probably being half-asleep or whatnot.

His face moved into an expression of confusion. "I've been at the gym for about two hours."

Double-take.

Triple-take.

A pause lingered.

"Wait...what?" I arched an eyebrow. "Fifteen minutes ago, you were passed out in that bed," I said, pointing at his mattress. He shook his head and maintained that he had been absent.

"But that can't be," I countered, perplexed. "Look at the clocks! Look at the time I noted on IM that my phone was ringing," I said, pointing to where I has told Omi "brb, phone's ringing." As I had mentioned, it had only been roughly fifteen minutes before. "I was only outside on the phone for ten minutes. The specific reason I went outside was because I didn't want to wake you up. You were already asleep when I got here at 9:10 or so."

Again, he shook his head. "I was already at the gym. You could check the records if you wanted, or talk to the other cadets" (Ed is in ROTC and has to work out with other cadets).

"It's not that I don't believe you," I noted. "But all I know is someone was in your bed fifteen minutes ago."

Another pause. I blinked and grimaced. Both of us cursed softly.

"Who the [heck] was in here?!"

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THE MORAL OF THE STORY: It's not enough that just you do it--make sure your roommate also always locks the door when he leaves the room.