Late one Sunday evening last school year my roommate returned to the dorm after spending his weekend at home (he did that a lot because his only friend was this married girl and she had to spend time with her husband too.). So, opened the door with a large grin on his face, the likes of which I had only seen him wear once before (when he got the new Dixie Chicks CD). He had brought with him a gift from home...a large pink and blue rug. Now, I had often expressed an interest in getting a rug, since the floors were tile and were cold on the bare feet. So, even though it was pink, i was initially excited about the rug. It wasn't long before the excitement wore off....

Our dorm was over one-hundred years old, so it had no form of air conditioning. The heat would often become stifling, and it seems that when things become hot the odors they emit become much more pronounced. As was the case with the rug. On one particularly warm night I was lying in bed trying to sleep and I suddenly noticed an unfamiliar smell wafting up to my top bunk. I could never put words to the smell, but it vaguely smelled like sort of burnt food crossed with foot. Whatever it was, it wasn't a pleasant smell. So I jumped out from the bed in the darkness to find the source of this undesirable odor. It didn't take me long before i discovered the culprit....the rug.

The next morning I decided to ask my roommate about where he got the rug and stuff. Apparently, it was a rug his family kept in their dining room (apparently it had accumulated a lot of food particles over its twenty years of service), and his mom wanted to be rid of it, but, luckily, he saved it from being sent to the dump. What in the hell was he thinking? Had he no olfactory nerve?

When my friends began commenting on the new smell in my room I felt it was time that I did something about the rug.

I bought a few bottles of Febreeze.

My roommate was a very sensitive person, and he obviously cared a lot about this rug. So I, being the good roommate that I was, kept the Febreeze hidden from him when he was in the room. Whenever he left the room, which was only when he went to his Baptist Student Union meetings or when he hung out with married girl, I would quickly rush to open all the wrindows and prop open the door to air out the room. I then would proceed to douse the rug in Febreeze. It did a little good, but my roommate got suspicious when he would return to find the rug a little moist. It did a little good, I suppose, and my friends applauded me for the effort, but the smell became an ever-present part of my room and I grew used to it eventuallly.

I just wish I had the heart to tell my roommate what I really thought of his skanky rug.

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