Carol was angry and righteous after a 9-hour shift.
'I don't want it in the house. It is disgusting on so many levels.'
Ramon taps his cigarette ash onto his own floor.
'It's my house too, and it's mine. So it's staying.'
'But what the fuck even is it?'
I move out of the kitchen now, whisk in hand and bare feet, joining in.
'My friend made it.'
This makes Carol even more incensed.
'Fucking Jimmy? Was he just trying to clear up his apartment? Don't tell me you paid for this.'
'Sixty pounds. I like it.
Ramon gets up and moves it, rotating it to face them even more obscenely.'
I head back for the kitchen. I don't know why I even came out. I keep watching over the counter anyway. Carol is wide-eyed and her body is rigid. She finds it impossible to argue with Ramon and this is part of why she hates him so much.
'At least put it in your room Ramon, I really fucking hate it.'
'The light in my room is all wrong. It wouldn't look any good.'
The light in my room is no good either. Carol pointedly looks at my golf clubs and Ramon stares at her, jaw clenched, as he stubs his cigarette out on the arm of the disgusting chair that was here before any of us moved in. I think I will move out soon.