It was about 8:30 in the morning when I returned home from my fishing trip.
I had been gone all weekend and the first thing I was going to do after I put my fish in the freezer was take a well deserved shower.
The first sign of trouble that morning was discovering that the front door wasn't closed. It was slightly ajar. I was sure that my roommate had forgotten to close it the night before.
I walked in and took my shoes off. There was a slight smell of filth hanging in the air. With my bagged trout under one arm, I walked into the kitchen and found a sink full of dishes.
How disgusting. I put the trout in the freezer and then headed to my room.
I was relieved to find that my door was closed. Even if my roommate had been inside, he'd at least had the decency to close the door and pretend that he hadn't been in.
I grabbed some clean clothes and a towel and went to the bathroom.
I was filled with joy as I turned on the shower and undressed. I hadn't been comfortable in days. I drew back the shower curtains and nearly had a heart attack.
My roommate was lying face down in the tub, nude. He was covered in vomit.
"What the hell isTHIS?" I shrieked.
My roommate started twitching. He groaned softly.
"I need to take a shower, get out!" I demanded.
"Naw, I can't, I'm too hungover man."
"Suit yourself," I stepped over the ledge and into the tub, making sure not to step on my roommate.
"How was your fishing trip?" He moaned.
"Yah it was really nice actually! I caught a trout yesterday! I thought that we could have fish tacos for dinner tonight!"
"Sounds good, man."