We took up three blankets, two beers and about a gallon of water. Giggling like idiots, we spilled the beers in under a minute. The clatter caught with particular irony, as we’d just broken a glass on the stairwell, and I blushed in beautiful absurdity.
Rhys* and I stumbled onto the most promiscuous part of the top, either by proximity or pure exhibitionism. We capped off the routine by spreading the covers smack dab in the heart of the roof.
“This is probably a bad idea…” I said. It was utterly free and ridiculous, or at least I felt that way. It couldn’t have been later than 12 on a Saturday, so despite our shield of solidarity, we ran a rather risky rate of exposure.
“It’s so nice outside, though”, Rhys said, as I slipped down to kiss his stomach. “…Unless, of course, you get evicted for this.”
I rolled off and laughed; “…That would be bad”.
Imagine being thrown out of your building for having sex on the roof.
Uh, explain your way out of that one, right?
I suddenly flashed to the confrontation “Yeah…actually, I’m changing apartments…sorry, mommy, I forgot to tell you…no big deal, just thought I’d like a place in Brooklyn, you know…
“But, I mean, come on…” I teased, “I really don’t think Mohammed would kick me out for that…”
“No, I think all your neighbors would just make fun of you for it”.
“That’s even better.”
“You’d be the laughing stock of the building”.
I pretended to pause; pensively- “I could handle that”.
We moved the blankets behind the pillars, slightly, as if it made a difference. I figured that coital figures- if slightly shadowed- would incite some bashful discomfort- potently protecting our identities, and securing the rooftop, as the sympathetic neighbors fled to back to propriety. The chary resident blasted with pure brazen nudity, however, might be a bit more furious.
This was wrong.
We had just started to slide comfortably, when the door opened to two men, chatting between each other. One of them looked familiar, bald or shaved with a goatee, the other I didn’t notice too much.
Rhys and I just shrugged, stifling smiles as we shifted behind the pillars. Expecting their quick retreat.
Rhys and I stopped moving, looked at each other: what the fuck?
They saw us, all right. Oh they looked in our direction, then kept chatting as if
there was nothing at all notable in our nudity, or our existence in general.
Instinctually (what a weird instinct!), we reached for our clothing.
“Umm… maybe they don’t see us?”
“I’m not sure if they can….”
I stood up; ignoring underwear but sliding on pants, ready to laugh en masse at our ridiculous situation. We should share the roof. Right?
“Hey,” I called out, all buddy-buddy, “Do any of you guys have a cigarette?”
They didn’t even pause. Rhys chocked back laughter- I don’t know why we were bothering to keep quiet anymore.
“Um,” I whispered to him, “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know”
“This is weird- let’s go downstairs.”
We were dressed.
In the stairwell, we closed the door behind us.
“Motherfucker!” I burst out. “You realize what just happened?”
“They just kicked us off the roof…”
“They just ignored us off the roof! That was, like, an fucking awkwardness contest!”
I gasped, “Oh my god. That’s…. fucking-a, that’s what I fucking study…they just ignored us out of existence…and we left!”
“We should have stayed up there…”
“Yeah…but, well, I think they have the legal right. I’m not sure- you know, I really should check these things”.
“Well, they may have the legal right, but we’ve got the, you know, “don’t be a dick” right.”
“You know, ‘don’t be a dick’…pretty simple, I mean come on…”
“That was great, though”, (intellectual bastards like irony).
“Yeah, that really was”.
In the morning, we found condom wrappers…that weren’t ours. Wow.