Kyle and I were standing in the middle of our living room, but it wasn’t our living room. Everything was set up the same, only larger, and slightly different. Our carpet had turned into black and white, checkered tile, and the ceilings were higher. We had ordered a pizza from some pizza place, which cost us nearly $60, and it still hadn’t arrived, nearly 6 hours later.
Kyle and I were trying to get a hold of the pizza place, but their phone had been disconnected. Kyle was upset, and kept yelling at me to get online and write a negative Yelp review, but I kept telling him to do it himself.
While we were arguing, our door opened, and a random, golden retriever walked in, squatted down, and pooped on our floor. We stood there, completely shocked. At that exact moment, with our door wide open, all of our neighbors came home, and proceeded to look into our apartment. They all started loudly proclaiming that they were calling the realty company that we go through, because there are no pets allowed in our building. We tried to frantically explain that the dog wasn’t ours, but they all took out their phones in unison, and proceeded to call the landlord.
While they were all complaining into the phone, the dog started peeing on the floors. Just then, a middle-aged woman entered the hallway, pushed her way into our apartment, picked up the dog, and walked out without a word. I quickly slammed the door behind her, shutting our neighbors out. I told Kyle to call the landlord to explain, while I cleaned up the dog’s mess. He refused, and said he was just going to play with Liam, who had just woken up from a nap in his room.
We started shouting at each other again.
And then I woke up.