articles

The Couch

staff writer

“i woke up in a cold sweat not quite sure where i was.
my head was pounding and there was a slight dampness on the couch where i had passed out.
as i gazed around the room, my surroundings suddenly became familiar again; and a title wave of panic washed over me. suddenly, blurred memories of last night’s night life excursion and binge drinking episode crashed into my mind explaining the reason for my pounding head, the reason why i was still in last night’s bar attire, and most devastatingly; the reason why my pants were soaked. That drunken dream about backstroking through a sea of Heineken was, in reality, my subconscious telling me i had pissed a stranger’s couch…and there was little to no time for counteraction. Impulsively i sprang up, looking around for paper towels, napkins, or even dirty laundry to mop up the evidence of my inability to hold my booze or my bladder.
Someone was coming, it was undoubtedly the owner of the apartment i had crashed in. Thinking fast, i flipped the cushions i had defiled in a last resort attempt to cover up the contamination, and managed to put on a sheepish grin just in time for the astonished homeowner to walk around the corner. Knowing my destination was a only short walk away, i intrusively asked for a ride…just to be a dick.”