Hipster Roommate Fun

I should have known how things would turn out when my roommate stole my alarm clock soon after moving in.

I awoke one morning with a terrible headache and a familiar, unpleasant smell in the air. After going back to sleep for a while I realized that the smell was that of the hallway in my high school where they chemistry labs were housed. It was the smell of the gas from the bunson burners. I then walked out into the kitchen where I promptly tripped over my roommate who, having apparently stumbled into the apartment snot-slinging drunk the night before, had turned on the stove just prior to passing out, face down on the kitchen floor. I immediately turned off the stove, opened every window and kicked my roommate in the leg for good measure while I imagined a number of Backdraft-like scenarios in which I flip a light switch and then I’m consumed by a fucking fireball.

On another occasion my roommate stumbled in at around 3 a.m. with an unfortunate house guest who was about to find herself the victim of the sexual inadequacies of a mustache-bearing, tight pants-wearing, malnourished hipster with a substance abuse problem. They clamored about in next room to a soundtrack of “I’m 17 and I hate my dad” music for another half an hour or so. Just as I thought the worst was over, my roommate kicked my door open, flipped the light on and then jumped in horror to discover that I, the other inhabitant of this house, was in fact home and in my bed. He said to me “Oh, uh, sorry. I was just, uh… I was gonna’ ask you. Do you have a condom?” I paused for a moment to consider the implications of allowing this man-child to possibly pass on his unholy seed to the hapless slut in the next room and then replied “No.” I did not,in fact, have any condoms.

He never paid for his half of the bills, likely because every dollar he earned was either spent on the copious amounts of cocaine he snorted on a regular basis and/or used as a vehicle for said cocaine on its journey to his nasal cavity. After he didn’t pay his half the rent for three months, my landlord decided he would terminate the lease and start a new one in my name in a studio that had just opened up across the hall. I guess that’s a happy ending.

As a nice little parting gift, my roommate left his copy of Titty Fuckers 7 in my DVD player.