Roommate Confessions

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

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Honesty.

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Last year I was paired with somebody who I soon found out I knew very little about. I thought college was going to be like an insane asylum/prison mixed with an amusement park. Let's say Riker's Island mixed with Coney Island. They never told me that Fire Island would be thrown in as well. I facebook friended my roommate and he hardly said anything to me before the start of school. When I met him, I noticed a few things that were a bit odd about him: he was way too neat for a guy in college, he had more varieties of shampoo than a bored old grandma, and he kept insisting on dressing me in the morning because my style was apparently so bad I could "potentially make people need to go see the school counselor after being horrified by seeing me." I started to wonder about him but my worries were soon quelled when he told me that he wanted to join a fraternity. I went about the orientation week in an alcohol-induced bliss not paying any attention to further signs of who he actually was. On Friday night, three days before the start of school, I came back from a party and went to bed. I heard him straggle in a half-hour after with somebody. Out of my peripheral vision I saw some short person with a Gucci t-shirt and jeans that were so tight they could collapse your leg down into an infinitely dense blackhole. I thought nothing of it and went back to bed. The next morning I wake up to find that my roommate had in fact brought back a guy who was naked and had his arm around him. And this wasn't just any guy he brought back with him -- No. It was my best friend from high school. The next day consisted of a very long discussion with my roommate and apology from him for his lack of honesty. The truth was, I didn't have a problem with the fact that he was homosexual. Not in the least bit seeing that over the course of the year he taught me a hell of a lot about style and even women. Shit, he even introduced me to a few that ended up making me kick him out for a few nights. My problem was that he didn't tell me he was gay -- I totally would have traded him the Banana Republic gift card I left at home for something more masculine that he didn't need like the power drills he kept in the back of his car. It was too late at that point seeing I didn't want to fly back home to get the gift card.

October 15, 2012

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