A Good Samaritan Butts In

 Originally posted 2/11/2011 on another site and in a different format


I'd been flying high with my online friends and toggling chat rooms doing my best to keep up with everyone.  Yet despite my best intentions, trouble follows me: I don't go looking ... but damn if I don't put my foot into it every time.

I was spelunking through ICU2‘s many subterranean caverns (I go there for the conversation, you know).  I focused on an image all too common at 3AM: one prompting the age-old question, "Is he dead or just passed out?   An icy blond like in a Hitchcock film...if said blond were male, lay naked and sprawled across a chaise looking a bit too icy. With him was a harnessed gentleman quizzically staring at the cam like he'd never seen one.  He had a Euro-stud ethnicity so I pegged him as a foreign diplomat or someone who'd missed out on technology. People were typing questions yet he was unable to communicate back.
Enter Topman: wireless keyboard in hand and wanting merely to help. Or for those who track my blunders: Mistake #4823

Feeling cavalier and not at all compassionate, I suggested that he throw the bright green blanket over the body, and look for Blondie's wallet, valuables, and any financial institution passwords or safe deposit box keys.  I'd hustle down from Hollywood in the meantime and take him out for supper along the beach: if he could find his trousers.   I got a vague stare back. What the fuck had these two been using?  NyQuil PM? Wait! He was blind!
Images of me as Louis Braille flashed before in my mind. Turns out he wasn't blind, for when someone typed that he kiss his Sleeping Beauty, who looked much better now covered,  he readily obeyed, then disappeared off-cam.

I'll be damned if that kiss didn't raise the dead.  As I watched, the blond began to flinch and writhe...like a seizure but in reverse. He must have made plenty of noise, for EuroStud came back: and he and Lazarus turned to the monitor. No longer Mr. Helpful: I was a Crazed Sociopath with typed communication to use as evidence.
I was kidding, really, about stealing anything but that hot man and I grinned sheepishly but the cat was out of the bag. Blondie embraced her man while shooting daggers at me the likes of which I hadn't seen in years. "Thank you so much for helping us in your own little way!" his raspy voice cackled. Smoking?  Whiskey? A relative of Demi Moore?

With that, the cam went off. Another unhappy couple made happy by seeing me as an alternative. I'd never see them again or so, I thought.