Congratulations on Masking Yourself in Her Scent!

She’ll come in the door suddenly, in a rush of air, fifteen minutes early. She won’t say a word because she’ll assume the apartment is empty. Why wouldn’t it be? Why would her mentally deranged ex-boyfriend be in her bathroom,going through her things and trying his very best to clean his “lady traps,” which he uses to collect samples of her genetic material which he hopes to one use in an elaborate cloning experiment of some sort?

Because that deranged boyfriend is you. And you won’t want to be caught, because getting caught would make the kind of high level science you plan on doing absolutely impossible. So you will, in the spirit of all great scientists, make a split second decision to sacrifice dignity for the ability to continue your work. You’ll open the toilet bowl and, sure enough, there will be a big old puddle of hippy dippy cold urine in there. Real stanky first pee of the morning stuff that she won’t flush for the sake of the environment or some bullshit like that. And you, being the good man you are, will shove your head right in there. Then you’ll spread it all around on yourself and let it drip down your shoulders and clothes, coating your thoroughly in her scent. Well, one of her scents. Specifically the scent of her urine.

Then you’ll leap into her shower and focus on being as quiet as you can, just like you did when you were a kid. When she opens the door she’ll be assaulted by the smell of her own urine, freshly stirred up by your efforts. She’ll hold her nose as she peers around, looking to see if something went terribly wrong.

“Jesus Christ,” she’ll mumble. “Did the toilet blow up while I was at work?”

You’ll chuckle at this – you won’t be able to stop yourself. She always was so funny. But the chuckle will give you away and she’ll rip open the shower curtain to expose you there, pants around your ankles, with ziplock bags of her hair clutched in each hand.

You’ll manage to say “Hey Sara,” before the mace takes you and annihilates your capacity for speech. Later, you’ll relate this story to the police. They won’t find nearly as funny as you (and we) do.

Congratulations on Masking Yourself in Her Scent!