Roommate Confessions

You've done some bad stuff to your roommate. It's time to confess.

Roommate Confessions
uPick

Where's The Beef?

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Well, the following account is a few years old, but I remember quite clearly, as if they had happened just yesterday. To set the stage, at the time, I was in my mid twenties. The roommate I was with was in his fifties. The company I worked for at the time put employees from different shifts into housing units. At first, things went rather well with said roomy. We got along quite nicely, and we didn't have any problems between us. As time rolled on however, things started to go downhill. Now, i love to cook. I tell myself that if I hadn't learned how to cook when I was younger, I'd have starved a long time ago. Me being the considerate roommate that I am, when I made something for myself, I always made some for him as well. First incident with my cooking my roomy took to issue with was one night I had made a big ol' pot of potato soup. I've always made potato soup without any kind of meat in it. It's how I grew up eating it, and it's how I continue to eat it. Well, he took issue with the apparent lack of meat in the soup, to which I handed him a can of chunk chicken and told him "go to town." I let that one slide. The second, and last incident, with my cooking said roomy took was with meatloaf and scalloped potatoes for dinner. He took one bite out of it, and after swallowing the first bite, exclaimed "this isn't how my wife makes meatloaf!" Without missing a beat, my retort was "do i look like your wife?" He thought for a moment and responded, "no, but this still isn't how my wife makes meatloaf." At that point, I had had enough. I told him "if you don't like it, don't eat it." The next day, i talked to my boss and requested I be put in a new housing unit with a different roommate. Took a couple months, but I had finally gotten to move out. Up until that time, I had stopped cooking anything in the house, and started eating at the chow hall. He occasionally worked up the nerve to ask why I "didn't cook anything anymore." I just bit my tongue and remained quiet. To this day, I'm the only roomy that was able to survive one year with said fifty year old roomy. Everyone else didn't make it nearly as long.

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