Tight and Scary

Despite claiming to be a “rich, spoiled brat,” My Very Worst Roommate somehow never had any money when the rent and bills were due. The only food he ever bought was that rarest and most costly of delicacies, ramen. The noodles sat untouched in the cupboard while he ate my expensive produce and veggie burgers. After finishing a delightful repast of my food, he would leave his plate (which was actually my plate, as he owned no kitchenware) by his bed, cleverly hidden underneath a pile of dirty socks. After he moved out, I found like ten plates with months-old food crusted on them around his bed. Another delightful habit of his was watching Captain Planet AT TOP VOLUME. And listening to Sade AT TOP VOLUME. Simultaneously. At five in the morning. When I had to get up for work early the next day.

He was a pervert, too. He told me about a million times that he was primarily attracted to Asian women because they reminded him of his half-sister, who was half-Japanese. LOL incest. One night, I was wearing a kimono as a bathrobe over my pajamas, and he offered to “eat [my] Oriental ass out.” (Note that I’m not even Asian.) A couple of nights later, he asked if we could have sex to “cement our friendship.” I declined his charming offer, and he disappeared for three weeks. When he came back, he told me he’d been in the hospital for some mysterious neural disease, but I found out later that he’d been in jail that whole time and he wouldn’t tell anybody what he’d been arrested for.

The balcony door was what finally did it for me. He kept leaving the balcony door open when no one was home, exposing us to possible theft and, much much worse, allowing my extremely beloved cats to wander into the busy parking lot. This happened three times, and it’s a miracle that the kitties made it home safely each time. I tried to be patient, to reiterate that the balcony door could not be left open when nobody was home, to give second chances, etc. but he just would not stop.

Finally, the third time, I told him that I need to live in a safe environment – and to make sure my cats had a secure home. If he couldn’t do something as simple as shutting and locking the doors when leaving, he needed to move out. The next day, he brought some girl over to help him pack. He was gone when I got home from work. He did leave me a lovely keepsake, though – some stains and used condoms all over the futon in the living room.

I never saw or spoke to him again, but a couple of years later, my brother told me that he had one really weird co-worker. The guy was always talking about how Asian girls turned him on because they looked like his sister.

“Um… what’s this guy’s name?” I asked.

You guys get three guesses at what my brother said, but I’ll bet you can get it in one.