Posted on 09/22/2005 7:34:52 AM PDT by pissant
Most of us remember the excitement of the BIG DAY. That day, after living in your parents' home for 18 (in some cases 25) years, we finally asserted our independence and moved out of the house!
Whether we were heading off to the "city" to work, or starting our college lives, joining the armed forces, or just finding a space so we could party with our friends, the sense of finally being an adult was intoxicating.
Then Reality set in. We quickly realized that the paltry money we were earning barely covered the rent. Top Ramen instead of Mom's potroast, generic Corn Flakes instead of Captain Crunch. The solution to this problem, of course, was roommates.....at least in theory.
Since we've all survived those crazy days between leaving home and getting married, it is time to share the tales of Roommate Horror!
I'll start.....
Explains alot of his behavior, I'm guessing!
Only had one roomie. In London in the 70's. We were both Navy on staff duty at the embassy. Worked the same shift.
Shared this big house near Wembly Statium. My problem was his total lack of discretion. We were both single and in our early 20's with all the attendant hormonal issues, but Jeez Luweez, he was a penis with feet.
Whatever bimbo of the moment he brought home, wouldn't get past the foyer or the living room. Can't count on both hands the number of times I (and with date sometime) caught him en flagrante'. It got to where I would leave my date on the porch and "check it out" first.
I'm by far from being a prude, but isn't that why bedrooms have doors???
Other than that, he was a great guy...
Other than being really tacky he was a great guy. LOL
I also got him back by failing to mention the parking ticket I got in his car, and because the cable was in his name, deliberately failing to pay for it for two months.
Then there was the roomate in college, who was a hockey goalie. Man he was a real Mama's Boy. I couldn't understand why he chose to live right off campus when his folks lived 20 min away, and he was almost always at their place. What used to repulse me was when he came home after practice, his feet smelled soooooooo bad, that he had this prescribed roll-on device that smelled like Ben-Gay had sex with Listerine in order to deal with the intense odor. I told him he should do that in the bathroom, but he'd never listen. Between that, and him talking mushy mushy foo foo to his girlfriend on the phone till late hours of the evening, I was determined to take a stand. My other house mate put filthy pornographic pictures all over his loft, in his dresser, in between class books he had lying about, and in his clothes pockets in the closet. I on the other hand sprayed his hockey bag with fart spray. It made the other housemates' day, when we were sitting downstairs, and heard him and his girlfriend walk into the room!
Preferably (by a mile) the NFL and NCAA (I almost typed NAACP!).
Faht spray, you say? HEHHEHEHEE
Honey? Is that really you? After all these years.....dam....just dam.....
I offered to shack up with Bertha. She rebuffed me like a cheap floor.
What are you doin' outta the rose bed? ;)
Earl had to die............
My first roommate at college was a New Kids On the Block fan. Enough said!!!!
Sophomore year there were 5 of us in a wonderful old house. There were usual spats but otherwise got along okay. One of the girls, still good friends with her today, was extrememly anal. She could tell if you borrowed a squirt of perfume because the bottle wasn't in exactly the same spot as she left it. We all got in the habit of turning her shampoo bottles around in the shower and moving things on her dresser just to make her mad.
I'm such a rebel.
Touche'
A story from my junior year at college and first time away from home.
Was renting a two-bedroom with three other girls. Two girls shared a bedroom. It should be known that I never actually met these people before moving in, as I responded to an ad on one of the many campus billboards. This was not uncommon.
When I arrived at the apartment, noone was there, and judging that the large bedroom already had two beds and two people's stuff, I assumed, rightly so, that the smaller bedroom with only one bed was most likely the one I'd be sharing.
The left side of the room was already occupied with my "room"mates things. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, was MAUVE. The bed was mauve, the dresser was mauve, the desk was mauve, the cheesy wooden tulip bric-a-brac was mauve. A collage type picture frame held all of her high school cheerleader photos. Insert gagging noise about now.
I promptly hung my huge 4x6 foot poster of Robert Smith from The Cure, along with other assorted posters. It was an especially disturbing poster, with just a picture of his face staring down at you, eyes following your every move....
Her name was Marcy. And she had a "fiancee" named Thad. Thad and Marcy. Yes. I nearly puked. But I had only scratched the depth of her shallowness. Because once you think someone is as shallow as it gets, someone drains the pool.
She told us a story about how (and say this entire story with a western Pennsylvania "gum band" and "pop" accent in your head) everyday in her junior year in high school, she would write down what she wore on a calendar, so she wouldn't wear ANYTHING twice in one month. THAT way, when she was a senior, she would get the "Best Dressed Award" at her class dinner.
No. We didn't get along. And I purposely set up my spring semester schedule so that I had all of my classes on tuesdays and thursdays, so I could take off after my last class on thursday night, and not have to be back until monday night.
She did some pretty rotten things to me (among other things, she accused me of wearing her winter coat, even though I was a size 6 to her size 16 - which is why I think she hated me so much, and pulled all of my clothes out of my side of the closet in a fit of rage), but I never felt the need to seek revenge. I figured living in Grassflat, Pennsylvania and marrying a guy named Thad (Short for Thad) was punishment enough.
I bet she was saying the same thing Saturday night.
That's where I went too!-
See my earlier post.....LOL
You are so naughty.
Slurp,
Bertha
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