“Well? How do I look?”
With keys still jangling in my hand, I took one step into the living room of my apartment and my beat-up Adidas squeaked to a halt on the hardwood floor. There, in the middle of the room before the battered leather sofa, stood a naked warrior. Or rather, naked except for a loincloth sheltering his most private area.
It took me a moment to shake off my fright, but when I looked closer at the rich brown, shoulder-length hair, the lean and muscular torso, and the long, beefy legs of the Tarzan-like character, I finally recognized them as belonging to my roommate. I eventually detected the familiar features of the handsome face I had come to admire, now hidden beneath hideous swirls of brightly hued greasepaint, and gasped relief.
“f*****g hell, Reed! What are you doi
