My piano, okay. My guitar, maybe. My flute... Really? (Prologue)

Work has been busy this past week, and as such the blog is falling behind. I'll get to it when I can, but for now here's the beginning of a story I have yet to finish.
This story has been beat to death, but I never really posted it. If you've heard it before, do yourself a favor and stop reading now.

As loyal readers, or anyone who's been within 100 feet of me in the past few are well aware, 3 months ago I went to knock on my neighbor's door and set in to motion a series of events that would lead to a plethora of changes in my life. Suddenly I had the equivalent of two beautiful roommates whom I barely knew. Out of nowhere my life had changed from that of a typical nerd to what could pass for a prime time member of NBC's Thursday night "Must See TV".

Initially I was scared of having two "roommates". I'm not that great at having people around that often, and I tend to get annoyed easily. Luckily for me, Ruth and Rachel ended up being quite easy to get along with. They're about as orderly as a bull in a china shop, but everyone tells me that a little chaos will do me some good.

As I spent my time bracing for impact and looking to keep things under control, the one thing I didn't see coming was that along with my two new roommates came their would-be-suitors. "Would-be-suitors" in no way describes the magnitude of attraction that these two have put out. It's as if every eligible man in Phoenix has come by with the hopes that his foot will somehow fit the glass slipper. Fewer eligible bachelor's appeared during the entire 8 season run of The Dating Game than have appeared at my neighbor's doorstep in the past few months.

It's not as if I haven't enjoyed watching sailor after sailor steer his ships directly for Sirenum Scopuli, it's more that by showing up on their doorstep they're essentially showing up on my doorstep, and I oftentimes find myself ill equipped to handle unplanned house guests.

Now, to be sure there have been a couple who's presence is welcome, but by and large that tends to not be the case. In general I've found myself able to deal with these situations. Normally I see the minor irritation as a direct result of my social anxiety, and something that I need to work on. But then there are the times that I see as something that they need to work on; there are times that they start messing with my stuff.

Readers who have kept diligent notes will recall that on the Tuesday after meeting Ruth and Rachel I was invited to a concert by Ruth. At the time, the details of that evening seemed insignificant and unblogworthy when in reality they set a tone of things to come.