Wet Bed.

I was hesitating about putting this online before I had the pictures to go with it, but in lieu of Patrick's comment on my 'Vive la France' blog, I felt it necessary to put this in now. I'll add the pictures later.

The second night that Kelsey was staying with me, we came into my apartment to find a large going away party being thrown for my only American housemate Maria. She is also from St. Mary's. There were about 16 Irish students in our living room, and a few in Maria's bedroom. They were drinking, playing some games, and getting ready to go out to the clubs for the night. We said our hello's, and then left to do a few things outside of the apartment, which I thought was convenient timing because by the time we got back home everyone from the party would be out at the nightclubs.

Well, my timing was accurate, and we were alone in the apartment. I got into my room and quickly discovered that there was a huge wet spot on my bed by my pillow. Immediately I was in worst-case-scenario mode and thought it was urine. I have a bad sense of smell, so I grab Kelsey and make her smell it. She said it didn't smell like anything. It was also colorless, so I thought that it might be vodka, but it didn't smell like alcohol. No one at the party was drinking water, so I thought it was very suspicious that anyone would choose to suddenly sober up, go in my room and spill water everywhere. It was quite late, the only extra mattress was on the floor for Kelsey, and we were already incredibly tired, so I covered the spot with an old blanket and fell asleep on it, grumbling furiously to myself that people had broken into my room period, in addition to the fact that they spilled something all over my bed.

The next morning the spot is dry, I throw the blanket back in its corner and forget about it.

Two days later, after Kelsey has moved into my housemates old room because she left, I get out of the shower and am about to get dressed when I notice the spot on my bed. After it dried I don't remember seeing it ever again, until then. Now it seems to have taken on a whole new color. A yellow one. I run into the kitchen, grab Kelsey, and take her into my room. "Smell that" I demand. She didn't even have to get very close to smell it. She slowly turned back to me with an 'I feel really sorry for you' look on her face. "Oh God, no..."

"It smells like Urine," she says.

Not only did someone break into my room, in their drunken stupor they either decided it would be really funny to pee on my bed, or they were so inebriated they didn't know where they were peeing and perhaps even thought it was a toilet. Either way I was livid.

Whenever a skunk would be anywhere near our town, my mother would be able to sniff it out. It would even wake her out of her sleep most of the time. Whenever I would tell her "I don't smell anything" she would purse her lips at me as if I was making it up. Well, mom, someone urinated all over my bed, and for two days I never noticed the smell growing. If this isn't proof I'm not making it up, I don't know what is.

So that leaves me without a mattress, furious at everyone from the party, with no way to contact my ex-roommate to figure out what happened, and with no way of finding out who did it or why. If I hadn't just gotten out of the shower when I discovered it, I don't know what I would have done. I very well may have snapped.

I slept on urine for three days and had no idea.