Over The Limit

My freshman year of college we were randomly assigned roommates. I had never met my roommate before. I came from a small, hick town, but he was the biggest hick I’d ever met.

The only thing he liked to watch on TV was “professional wrestling” and porn. I would often “go to sleep” before he got back to the room for the evening to avoid watching wrestling, but he would still turn on the TV and lights after 10 p.m. when I was in bed. He apparently owned only one CD: Eminem’s first album, which he played repeatedly.

He also liked to drink a lot. After two weeks of talking about how well he could hold his liquor and how he has drank a 12-pack by himself and hardly been drunk, I came home around 11 p.m. one night to find the residents on our floor carrying him up the stairs. They said he had seven or eight beers. He decided two things needed to be done at that time (after he threw up in our room), shower and call his mom. He told me to call his mom collect (this was before everybody had cell phones). He laid on the floor naked and told his mother he was drunk. He eventually fell asleep on the floor naked and was gone by the time I woke at 8 a.m. the next morning. His mother had came and picked him up.

I switched roommates a week later. I only ever saw him one other time, about a year later he howled like a wolf at my friend (who was a girl) from across a parking lot.