I really appreciate a good chair. There’s just something supremely wonderful about curling up in a comfy chaise with a mug of tea or coffee and wasting the afternoon away on Pinterest. This is what I was excited to do this morning in the little reclining chair in our apartment. I sat down with my Sonic drink (a delicious diet vanilla coke, thank you very much), my computer, Mulan, my biff/roommate Alyssa and prepared for a relaxing Sunday. Suddenly, I realized that not only was my butt a little damp, but it also smelled strange in the general area. I started sniffing around (I have a very keen sense of smell) and noticed the offensive odor was coming from the cushion. I stuck my schnoz next to the cushion and gasped with HORROR as I realized that someone had peed on our beloved chair!
I immediately tore the cushion off of the chair and came to another appalling realization that not only had someone peed on the cushion but they had FLIPPED THE CUSHION OVER, as if we wouldn’t notice! The cushion was SOAKED with someone else’s urine. Fuming, gagging, and practically speechless, Alyssa and I began theorizing about who could have committed such an act. We ruled out ourselves (obviously), our roommates, and our friends. Sorry, but we’re not friends with tacky, disgusting, low lives who would pee on our chair and not ‘fess up about it. Everyone in our apartment and everyone we knew who could have felt comfortable enough to walk into our apartment without permission was out the night before. Finally, we came to the awful conclusion that some rando dude (no girl could have produced that much pee) broke into our apartment and released his bladder on one of our best pieces of furniture.
To whoever did this heinous act, you are a special breed of pathetic. Not only did you violate our privacy, but you ruined a special part of our living room where we have some our best roomie bonding moments. Someone is going to have to sit on the floor during Real Housewives of New Jersey tonight and that is a travesty. In the famous words of Antoine Dodson, “You don’t have to come and confess, we’re lookin’ for you, we’re gon’ find you, so you can run and tell that, homeboy.” Don’t mess with me and my chair. As of now, everyone is the enemy until we find the cushion flipping pee-er. Be scared.
The poor chair in question.
The stain isn’t visible now, but the smell is undeniable.
The chair will be avenged.
UPDATE: Peeing in a public or private place is a misdemeanor. I am on a witch hunt. Think before you pee.