A Thief’s Rugmorse

02Sep09

Mr. Q and I recently combined households to form a supergroup of short people and lazy dogs.  Due in large part to our mutual “blah” interior design aesthetic, a majority of our chairs, tables, textiles, etc married quite well when we squished them all into the same apartment.

Allow me a moment to define the “blah” aesthetic.

“blah” aesthetic – (nblah es-thet-ik

black, white, beige. in some instances, no knobs.

Ok. I added on that part at the end about no knobs because I have a strange aversion to furniture with knobs. But that’s abloggins for another day.

So anyway. The point is, our color palate lacks an actual color. I’m comfortable with it that way, but I understand a little bit of color could liven things up a bit and am open to possibility of one day maybe incorporating one, maybe two colors …yeah, no. Nevermind.

Several days after we move in, there appears a rug on our balcony. This one, actually:

urbnrug

And to further explain why this is the strangest occurrence ever, our balcony is about 2ft by 3in and 3 stories up.  After minutes of perplexed face-making and head-tilting, it is deduced the rug probably fell from the balcony above during a storm the night before.

I immediately decide we should adopt the rug, and I roll it out on our living room floor.

The next evening it catches my attention that if we were to leave the blinds slightly open, someone outside would definitely be able to see the rug just lying there on our floor.

I try the rug out in our bathroom. I’m beginning to have thief’s remorse.

About 3 or 4 nights after the rug joined our family, we faintly hear a bit of commotion. Carlos mutes the TV and stands very still, then slowly wanders over towards the door to the balcony. Our neighbor upstairs is standing outside on the phone, and yelling. Loudly. And angrily.

I start thinking. What if we befriended the neighbor, only for him to enter our bathroom months later and then kill us while in a rage over our betrayal of friendship. What if we befriended another neighbor who heard from another neighbor that yet another neighbor’s rug disappeared, and after visiting our apartment, the rumors start flying until we are arrested for rug larceny and one day my troubled past surfaces, ruining my campaign for president and ultimately, my political career.

I command Carlos to take the rug to the leasing office first thing in the morning to be returned to it’s rightful owner. I sleep with one eye open that night.

The next morning our apartment is returned to its former blah, a few days later I spot the rug back on the angry neighbor’s balcony, and all is once again right in the world.

Ok. I think my conscience is clear now.

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