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When I pulled up to Laura's house she sat on the steps outside, smoking a cigarette. She probably saw the nervousness in my face and gave me a friendly wave.
"How're you doing? Nice to finally meet you," I said, as we shook hands.
She paused for a second and then opened her arms for a hug, officially setting a new record for the fastest time in which two strangers have hugged and also breaking my own personal record for the swiftest positive reaction from a female.
Laura started by showing me around her place. But there was one very crucial thing missing in the house: a couch. In fact, there wasn't even a living room.
And then it all came together.
"Here's the mattress," Laura said, pointing at the single mattress propped up in the hallway.
An hour later we sat in her kitchen drinking whiskey and I could barely make out my surroundings in the pitch black. The lights weren't working.
"Well, everything else is working, so I must have paid the bill," she said.
Earlier, Laura told me that she searched for roommates on craigslist by posting the strangest messages possible.
"I want to see if you can handle it," she had said, "because if you can't, then it's not going to work out."
I began to understand what she meant.
Laura on driving: "Sometimes when I'm driving I close my eyes for like five to ten seconds at a time, just in case my retinas fall out."
Laura on the deceased albino rat she and her roommates used to own: "I wanted to give it a proper send-off, so I built it a paper boat. But the boat collapsed, so we burned it."
Still, she offered some insight as to why couch surfing has become popular.
"I feel like whenever I visit a city, or visit wherever, I want to be there as if I'm living there," she remarked. "I want to experience what the people who actually live there experience."
Unfortunately, I got to see very little of Laura's version of Philly. By 9:30 p.m. she felt sick and ready for bed. We slid her mattress against the far wall and stuffed the one from the hallway into her room, which probably wasn't much bigger than some people's walk-in closets. Before turning in for the night, she graciously drove me to Center City and dropped me off. When I returned, she threw the keys to me from her window.
That's when I swear I walked in on Laura sleeping topless. The shadows could have been playing tricks on my eyes, but I'd bet my firstborn I saw a bare shoulder and some back.
At 7:30 a.m. the alarm in the room below us went off and I noted two things. First, at this moment, Laura did indeed have a shirt on. Second, I slept maybe two solid hours all night.
Tour Guide: Judy | Night 2
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