Proof Why Uresa Was Late 🤳

When Uresa walked into the room, her hair slightly frizzed from humidity, shoes mismatched, and phone clutched desperately in her hand, everyone stared. Not because Uresa was a stranger to being late—on the contrary, she practically invented the concept—but because this time, she came prepared with proof.

“Before anyone says anything,” she panted, pointing to her phone, “I have evidence.”

Everyone in the conference room, from Mr. Harding with his stern frown to Marla with her snide smirk, leaned forward in expectation. No one could ever anticipate the sort of chaos that typically followed Uresa, but today promised a new spectacle.

She tapped her phone, casting the contents onto the big screen at the front of the room. What unfolded was a bizarre, sometimes hilarious, often unbelievable documentary that could only be titled one thing: “Proof Why Uresa Was Late 🤳.”

Chapter 1: The Alarm Betrayal

At precisely 6:00 a.m., Uresa’s alarm—a soothing ocean wave soundtrack she foolishly trusted—fired off. But thanks to her cat, Kyo, who had developed an intense vendetta against technology, the phone was batted off the nightstand and muffled under a pillow. Result: Uresa slept peacefully through three alarms and woke up two hours later to a suspiciously silent room and Kyo smugly perched on her chest.

The footage showed a blurry, half-asleep Uresa trying to coax her phone out from beneath the pillow, swearing under her breath and glaring at the unimpressed feline.

Chapter 2: The Great Wardrobe War

Once she realized the time, Uresa raced to her closet. That’s when the second disaster struck. Every outfit she grabbed either had mysterious stains (courtesy of last night’s nacho binge) or was somehow now two sizes too small. In a panic, she tried on six different looks, each more catastrophic than the last.

The photos Uresa provided showed her posing miserably in each outfit: one featured a lopsided skirt, another a shirt she had somehow buttoned inside-out. In one particularly tragic selfie, her head was stuck in a turtleneck, with only her nose poking through.

Ultimately, she settled on what she described as “business casual panic chic”: a decent blouse over jogging pants disguised by a very long coat.

Chapter 3: Breakfast Betrayal

“No problem,” she narrated breathlessly over the video montage, “I figured, I’ll just grab coffee and a muffin on the way. Quick, efficient, professional, right?”

Wrong.

Uresa’s next footage showed her standing outside her favorite café, which was mysteriously closed due to a “plumbing emergency.” The camera zoomed in on the sign hastily taped to the window: “Sorry! We have a leak! Back at noon.”

Uresa, undeterred, marched across the street to the next café. As luck would have it, a flock of pigeons decided that was the perfect moment to descend—directly on her muffin. Another slow-motion video captured her horrified reaction as feathers and crumbs collided in midair.

She simply sighed, shrugged, and flicked a crumb off her coat. “At this point,” she narrated, “I knew breakfast wasn’t happening.”

Chapter 4: Transit Terror

Her next plan: hop on the subway and make up lost time. That was optimistic at best.

Uresa’s next video segment, labeled “The Subway Saga”, showed her squeezing into a train packed tighter than a can of sardines. The camera panned to a man aggressively playing the accordion, a kid blowing bubbles with gum the size of baseballs, and an unfortunate couple arguing so loudly that the subway driver threatened to stop the train altogether.

Just when it seemed like things couldn’t get worse, a mechanical voice came over the intercom:
“Attention passengers: due to an object on the tracks, we are experiencing delays. Thank you for your patience.”

The video paused for dramatic effect, showing Uresa’s dead-eyed stare into the camera.

Chapter 5: The Taxi Gamble

Refusing to admit defeat, Uresa got off the subway and hailed a cab. Fortune seemed to smile upon her… until she realized she had flagged down possibly the slowest cab in the city. The dashboard camera footage revealed the driver, a sweet old man named Chuck, who insisted on telling her detailed stories of his time in the Navy. Every. Single. Red Light.

When Chuck found out she was late for work, he tried to help by taking “a shortcut”—which, as shown on Uresa’s GPS, looped them back to the starting point.

Uresa, trying to maintain her sanity, smiled and nodded through it all. She even recorded a moment where Chuck insisted on singing a shanty about seagulls.

Chapter 6: The Final Boss — The Revolving Door Incident

Arriving at the building, late but still optimistic, Uresa faced her final challenge: the lobby’s new revolving door system.

Security footage (which she sweet-talked the security guard into sending her) showed Uresa confidently stepping into the revolving door—only for the door to suddenly stop. She was stuck between two glass panels, helplessly trapped like a mime in an invisible box.

After three awkward minutes, two security guards and a janitor managed to set her free. The final shot showed her sprinting toward the elevators, coat flapping behind her like a superhero’s cape.

Closing Arguments

As the video ended, Uresa turned to the silent room. She spread her arms wide, as if daring anyone to question her now.

“So,” she said with a half-smile, “I might be fifteen minutes late, but clearly, it was a full-day epic battle to get here.”

There was a pause. Mr. Harding coughed into his hand. Marla raised an eyebrow. And then, to Uresa’s complete shock, Mr. Harding started clapping. Slowly at first, then the whole room joined in.

Because, truth be told, no one could have invented a more ridiculous—and yet somehow perfectly believable—series of events.

Uresa beamed, victorious. For once, not only had she survived the chaos, but she had turned it into a standing ovation.