Satire | Local student devastated to learn of roommate having sex around apartment

As winter progresses, the Pitt community settles deep into cuffing season. The evidence is everywhere — couples holding hands walking down Forbes, cuddling up in the William Pitt Union or only vaguely pretending to study together in Hillman. Valentine’s Day around the corner is putting romantic partners through their paces, encouraging commitment and intimacy. 

Junior Kaylee knows this all too well, as she watches her current roommate, Lisa, settle into her new relationship. Lisa met her boyfriend, Drew, through mutual friends last October, and they started dating in mid-December. 

Kaylee, who considers herself one of Lisa’s closest friends, finds the two to be a good fit, saying she thinks Lisa finds fulfillment in her relationship with Drew. 

“She hasn’t had a lot of luck with dating these past few years, so I’m happy for her,” Kaylee says, but there’s clearly something on her mind. 

After a few moments of prompting, Kaylee admits her troubles, saying, “Well, Lisa was talking to me about Drew the other day and … she told me they had sex on the couch.” 

I look around the living room of Kaylee and Lisa’s small two-bedroom apartment. There’s only one couch. I’m sitting on it. 

“Yeah, that couch,” Kaylee confirms from the chair across the room. 

The couch is a lovely shade of emerald green, a Facebook Marketplace snag. It’s a particularly fancy couch for a South Oakland apartment, and I’ll admit I was surprised to see such commitment to decor in the residence of college students. 

Kaylee is “really into her living space,” and her apartment is proof of her dedication. Her living room alone features Impressionist paintings on the walls, matching lounge chairs adorned with deep purple pillows and a mid century modern coffee table. She gives her beloved couch a wary look, sitting stiffly on the edge of her chair. 

Lisa believes it’s not that big of a deal since she cleaned it off, Kaylee says, but Kaylee still can’t bring herself to sit there. 

“I know it’s secondhand, so anything could have happened to it before it came here, but there’s something so unsettling about really knowing your couch has lost its sex surface virginity,” she says. “I can’t forget about it.” 

The situation escalated just a few nights ago when Kaylee overheard Lisa on the phone with a friend, talking about having sex with Drew in the shower. 

“She said she’d done it three times. Three times,” Kaylee says, shaking her head, staring into the distance. “Do I smell bad?” Kaylee has not showered since the news. She does not own shower shoes and does not want to take the risk. 

Kaylee then spirals into a less-than-brief tangent about all the types of fluids that could be present on the surface of the shower tub and how many she probably came into contact with before she knew about it, which I will not be detailing. 

“I think she’s going through some sexual revolution, experimenting and stuff, and I appreciate it. I really do,” Kaylee says, only marginally sounding like she means it. “I — I’m happy for her. Truly. But —” She stops herself. “I’m happy for her.” She nods again. 

But she’s not done unloading. Just this morning, Kaylee received a text from Lisa that was meant to go to Drew, saying something along the lines of, as far as I can gather, “hey, did we ever clean off the kitchen table after we had sex on it? i can’t remember lol.” 

Kaylee’s kitchen table was a freebie from her father after his wife remodeled their kitchen. It’s bar height, a Pottery Barn matching set with four swivel chairs, only slightly worn from its years of delicate care. It’s dark-stained oak. Kaylee eats both her dinner and breakfast on it every single day. 

“I mean, how does that even work?” Kaylee exclaims. “It’s so tall… How do they both fit… No. No. Nevermind.” She falls into a thousand-yard stare, then jolts out of it and adds, “I mean, HOW!” 

By this time, I have coaxed poor Kaylee into bringing all her frustrations over the sacrilege of her beautiful decor to the surface, and she’s looking worse for wear. What an unfortunate moment, then, to hear the key in the lock of the door and a voice drifting in from the hall, saying, “What do you think about Kaylee’s bed, then?” A giggle in response. 

Luckily for me, I have decided that by now I’ve conducted a thorough enough interview and I may take my leave. Just as Lisa enters the apartment with a man I can only assume to be Drew, I duck out the door behind them, leaving the two to face poor Kaylee and her devastation about their ruining the chastity of her beautiful home. 

It’s as the old saying goes — may roommates who have sex in the shared spaces get the treatment they deserve. 

Anna is asking that any current or future roommates refrain from having sex on her beautiful couch, please and thank you. You can reach her at ane45@pitt.edu.