James was glad he hadn't made plans with his homies tonight, because he knew he looked weird. He hoped he wouldn't look weirder by the time evening fell. He thought about going back to pick up his phone so he could call the doctor and maybe text Jorge, but he kept getting distracted. Every few steps he took, it seemed like he discovered something new. When he walked by his closet right outside the bathroom door, he smelled something filthy and furry and heard a ridiculously high-pitched screech sound. He brought one ear to the door and heard scratching and scurrying inside there. He flung open the door and dug through his piles of clothes until he got to the source of a tiny heart-beat-like rhythm that was getting faster: a little scared mouse cowering between two of the rear hampers! He knew there were rodents in this apartment, and he was pissed to have actually found one! He found himself growling loudly at the little critter and watched it scurry back and forth looking for some kind of escape. It burst forth out of the closet through the edge of the doorway and tried to hide behind the couch, but James could smell and hear to well for that. He ended up chasing the thing all the way out of the apartment. Good riddance!
While kneeling down to get a closer look at the mouse, in the closet and in various other nooks and crannies where it tried to hide, James discovered just how many kinds of smells there were along the floor. He crawled along on all fours a little while inspecting different parts of the floor to see what he could notice. Most of it was just the smell of James's own feet and the various things he had stepped in outside the apartment, which was almost like a little diary of his recent travels. There was also the smell of the landlord's shoes from last week's visit to collect the rent. James wondered if he should mop again, even though he could still smell soap from the last time he'd mopped three weeks ago. On the one hand, the floor was incredibly smelly, so James assumed it must be much dirtier than he thought it was. On the other hand, it seemed shameful to try to erase the complex network of information down here recording so much of what goes on in the apartment. Perhaps unsurprisingly, James eventually found his way back to the trash can, where he sort of blacked out for twenty or thirty minutes sorting through all of the uneaten food that was still in there. When he came to, his stomach was a lot fuller, and there were boxes and wrappers scattered all the way around him on the kitchen floor. That settled it: he was definitely going to have to mop again sooner rather than later.
The concept presented itself to James that this room was probably the most important room of the house, so much so that perhaps he needed to stake a firmer claim on it. It seemed silly of course--everyone knew this was his apartment, and he was the only one who really spent a large amount of time here on a regular basis. Even so, there were plenty of smells here other than his own. Perhaps there was some way of reinforcing his scent here and making it stand out even more? He looked down at the food wrappers again and indulged himself in there appetizing smells again. A lightbulb in James's brain went off, and he dropped belly-first to the ground and rolled over onto his back. He twisted back and forth in the garbage, rubbing his hair and skin cells into the floor and the making a snow-angel like pattern among the trash! This also came with the added benefit that all of these aromas would continue to cling to him after he was finished, so he could carry a subtle record of this feast around with him for a while. There would be know doubt about who had ravaged THIS smorgasbord!
After giggling and rolling around for about five minutes, James stood up and looked down again at the mess he had made. He knew he was going to have to clean it up, but he wasn't in any hurry as long as there weren't any inspections today. He sniffed his clothes again and decided his gross little escapade was worth it. His happy little nub was motoring a mile a minute. On the way out, he got farther from his trash angel and decided he'd like something a little more potent at the entrance. A tingle in his bladder reminded him of one of his more shameful options. "Oh well, I have to clean in here anyway right? No harm, no foul, I guess." He remembered his earlier workflow from the bathroom and left an unmistakable puddle on the outskirts of the kitchen. Then he left for some further nasal navigating.