I was up late last night hanging out with some people in our apartment and we decided to order some pizza. I left two pizza boxes with a few left over slices in the kitchen at the end of the night and went to sleep. The next morning I walked into the bear’s den to find Bill had clearly enjoyed a few slices of the pizza considering the boxes were now on the floor in the middle of the living room. I’m sure after rummaging through the refrigerator in search of some of MY orange juice to wash down some of MY pizza with, he simply gave up when he couldn’t find any and collapsed in his hibernation-like coma on our couch as usual. End of story? Not even close..
I walked into the living room and breathed in thick, salty, heavy smog that can only be compared to three week old salmon left in the sun on the shores of the Passaic River, then trapped under a homeless man’s rotting corpse after having been “sleeping” there for a week himself. It was clearly Bills feet considering his shoes were at the edge of the couch desperately trying to crawl away from him and his socks were blacker than Barack. Bill usually smells like sh*t but something today pushed me over the edge. The conversation went as follows;
Me: Bill, It smells like complete sh*t in here.
Grunting and rolling over so his shirt could flip up and expose the hairy keg that is his stomach;
Bill: O.. Yeah, I guess it does. I’m pretty sure it’s the pizza.
The pizza!! Yeah Bill! A plain cheese pizza left out for maybe 6 hours smells like Indian food covered in burning hair. My patients was at its end so I flipped open a pizza box, took a big whiff, and said;
Me: It’s not the pizza. When the f**k was the last time you showered?
Bill: Uh, Maybe like 2 days.
Clearly a lie
Me: Take a f**king shower already the whole apartment smells like sh*t!
I took the garbage and slammed the front door as I left. Then it hit me. What did I just do? I snapped on a heavily medicated nutcase and left him alone in OUR apartment. I immediately started to think;
a) That was all he needed to finally snap and I’m probably going to come home to find him hanging from our ceiling fan.
b) He snapped alright, but he’s going to be waiting for me to get back with a roll of duct tape and a variety of torture devices.
c) This is exactly what he needed, a wakeup call, and he’s probably in the shower right now ready to apologize to me and turn over a new leaf.
So I figure my chances are 50-50 between (a) and (b).