When I was in high school, (see above), I guess I thought I was bad or something, because I got into the habit of sneaking out at night. There would always be parents away somewhere, so there was an endless supply of illicit and underage partying to be had. ( I lived in Dundas, which had many semi-rich families who travelled a lot.)
I was super overprotected. No, that's the wrong word. I was super watched. It's like they anticipated my misbehaviour. This is the part where I should be getting all angry and self-righteous, but not being 16 anymore, I understand they were right. But that didn't matter. There were parties to attend, and I was going.
The first house I sneaked out of was a toughy. I had to pass the parent's room, go down the stairs, through the laundry room, and prop the door open as I left or I'd be locked out. Yeah, now I know I left the house vulnerable to serial killers and meth addicts, but then it was just about not getting locked out.
Only once did I ever get caught there. And in the end, it wasn't really caught. Because they caught me going back upstairs to my room. And thought I was sneaking downstairs to watch tv.
"Don't you dare put that damn tv on and keep me awake. Get back in your room!" Gladly.
The second house was designed just for me. It must have been. I had TWO ground level windows to access. Take off the screen, tuck it under the bed. Pull up the blinds to the very top and lock. Open window... climb out, goodbye!
This was terrific until the morning my mother came in and said, "Next time you want to sneak out, use the damn door!"
Yeah, it rained that night, and it pretty much looked like trolls had been walking on the wall. Stupid. That did however, open the floor to curfew talks, so I suppose it came out right.
Fuck! The Ice tea sweat all over my new magazine. I'm done telling this story.
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