So I was sitting at a bar, minding my own business, when suddenly a random guy appeared out of nowhere and took the seat immediately to my right. Which I found somewhat peculiar because I was sitting alone in a booth.
He was completely unremarkable in every way and, as I was completely immersed in my drinking/writing, I paid him no mind.
The group of late 20-something women sitting three tables over from me are drowning out the conversation I’m trying to have and the music the venue is playing with their autistic screeching about the Kardashians.
I woke up this morning in my shower, with the water still running, and suffering from a Memento-esque memory haze. Apparently, after a night of significant revelry, I decided to have shower upon returning home. No big deal.
But the plot thickens. By inadvertently blocking the drain with my highly intoxicated self half an inch of water now covers the floor across the entirety of my apartment.
Despite having absolutely no idea how to deal with the copious amount of unwanted water I reflect on how thankful I am that my apartment didn’t come with a bathtub.