There's a phone in my bedroom, but the ringer's disabled. I hate getting heart-stopping calls in the middle of the night from drunks or rellies or both.
A man's bed should be a place of peace.
I went to sleep around midnight with the window wide open, to let some cool air in. I woke with the fright of my life, and screamed. Aaaaah! Someone was climbing in the window.
It turned out to be the cellmate, back from a night's partying, but without her house key.
Funny how some people find a way to get around your careful plans. It's not her fault though. Females are genetically programmed to gauge their own worth in terms of how much inconvenience a male will tolerate.
On the evidence, the cellmate is god's gift to men. I suppose I'm a fortunate creature.