I Swear To God, You People Better Stop Pissing In My Sensory Deprivation Tank

October 4, 2018 by , featured in Health
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Look, I get it. The water in the sensory deprivation tank I loaned to the Bunny Ears office is very soothing. It plunges your mind into a deep state of meditative contemplation. The salinity of the water that keeps you suspended on the surface is as close to feeling the weightlessness of space as you’ll ever get. The warmth of it invites your muscles to relinquish their hold on stress. The whole experience makes you feel like you finally understand what it means to relax. But please stop using all that as an excuse to piss in the tank.

I’ve been in the flotation tank business for a decade. I understand that people sometimes urinate in them. But all of you have all ruined my $27,000 tank in just one week. I mean, Jesus.

My proprietary blend of essential oils has been rendered useless by the eye-stinging odors of your urine. I’m no urologist, but the tank water is telling me that you’re all way too dehydrated for people who run a lifestyle website. The water is so yellow, it’s almost brown. I would ask you to not be proud of that, but I suspect you’ve already popped champagne in celebration of it—which, I might add, will only further dehydrate you. I’m seriously concerned.

I told you that you’re supposed to filter the water after every session. Have you guys ever done that? Even once? I figured, with the water you were trailing all over the office, the tank would be a mere puddle when I got it back. I left you with six inches of water, and I got it back with 14. That’s eight inches of piss. I never imagined I’d ever need to quantify piss, let alone in units of inches, until I met the Bunny Ears staff.

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I was told by the janitor that when he started asking questions about our bathroom, which is normally the third-worst part of his job, you bragged about urinating exclusively in the tank. Apparently, some of you have begun calling it the “piss pod.” That alone was unsettling, but then I learned that you brine yourselves in the piss and just go back to your desks without even drying yourselves. My god, you guys. No wonder our essential oil budget is through the roof.

I tried to rationalize all this away. Maybe the rush of thoughts that followed your initial encounters with such profound silence literally scared the piss out of you. But then you kept peeing. All of you, one after another, a parade of people willingly and gleefully floating in and adding to a salty tank of piss. Just because you have entered a trance-like state where you can’t tell where your body ends and the water begins doesn’t mean you have the right to piss in my tank.

I’ve spent a small fortune on disinfectants that have done nothing. The stench of your urine is too mighty a beast to slay. I am demanding you replace the tank you have ruined with piss. I expect delivered in no more than 30 days, or I will seek legal action. You know where I’m located. If you don’t, just follow the stench of piss from your office to mine.

And was someone eating crackers in there? Really?

Images: Pexels, Pixabay, Pexels, Pixabay


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