Ronnie, one of my roommates in college, was guilty of one of two crimes""being too caring a person, or, more likely, being a cock blocker.

I realized this one afternoon when I was at the big dining hall. This chick gave me some "bedroom eyes" at the tray dispenser. When we made it to the salad bar, she smiled. At the main course display (London broil), she said hi, and so did I. And at the frozen yogurt machine, I got cookies and cream frozen yogurt. She wasn't there.

But after I sat down at my usual table, next to the $8,000 flatscreen monitor showing episodes of The Smurfs, there she was. "Can I sit down here?" My heart skipped a beat.

"Sorry, seat's taken." The smile on my face faded as I looked up. It was Ronnie. Before I had a chance to explain to my dream girl (and ask her to get us both a glass of soda), she was gone.

"What the hell was that about?" I fumed (I really did" when I'm made I speak through my nose).

For a second, Ronnie was stumped, but then he cooked up this response: "C'mon man" you can't meet a chick in a dining hall. What, are you going to marry her? And then what are you going to tell your kids, 'Hey, I met mommy while we were both getting Jell-o from a salad bar?'"

No. I was going to screw her in the room while you weren't there. Now I'm gonna have to jerk off in the bathroom while you ARE there. I told Ronnie this and he apologized and promised that it'd "never happen again."

Two weeks later, Ronnie came into our room, his arm around one girl and two other girls in tow. "Hey Lukas""this is Nikki and Jasmine. Girls, this is Lukas." He sat on his bed with the other girl and Nikki and Jasmine came over and sat on the edge of mine. After some awkward silence, I turned on the TV and started flipping through channels.

"Let's see what's on MTV," Jasmine chimed in. I put on MTV. They happened to be showing an episode of Beavis and Butthead. Jasmine made a "gagging" noise and pleaded for me to change the channel, but Nikki told her to shut up and started to laugh. Soon we were both laughing and she put her hand on my leg. I was in love again. I gave Nikki my number.

Then I never saw Nikki again. After a week went by, I went to Ronnie. "Hey, what's Nikki's deal? Why isn't she calling me back?"

"Oh" uh, because I told her you were gay. And that you were hooking up with that gay RA, Larry."

I nearly shit myself. "You did WHAT?!"
"Don't worry, dude. You guys would never work anyways. She's sort of a slut, ya know? And you shouldn't make a ho a housewife."

No, maybe you shouldn't. You should have sex with a "ho." Which I had planned on doing with Nikki" many times. Turns out she was picturing me having sex with a neatly groomed Cuban kid from Miami.

Ronnie cock blocked me "for my best interest" maybe three or four more times that year. But he "got his." While I get to have sex with my hot (and clean) girlfriend, Ronnie has a huge herpes sore on his lip he can't seem to get rid of. I guess he was right. Too bad he didn't practice what he preached.