Somehow I’ve made it to almost-old without racking up too much roommate experience. Not counting girlfriends and relatives, I’ve only shared an apartment with one roommate in my life. And that lasted for just four months, or so.
When I moved to Greensboro I rented a place with a guy from the Convenience Story. And he was OK. We got along, and he wasn’t overly annoying or anything. A little red in the neck… but that’s not a big deal.
I was homesick during the early days down there, but he had it far worse than me. He’d call his girlfriend constantly, sigh a lot, and pace the floor. I tried to talk him into going out for beers, or to a movie, or something. But he just wanted to wallow in that apartment, and exhale a lot.
Finally he snapped, went back to West Virginia for a weekend, and got married on a whim. Next thing I know, he’s moving his new wife into our apartment.
The dude was less of a sad sack after that, but the entire dynamic had changed. I was suddenly the weirdo, living with a married couple, etc. And I felt like I needed to keep things a lot cleaner… The whole thing sucked.
I didn’t think I could afford it, but I spoke with the manager of the apartment complex about maybe moving into a one-bedroom unit. She said they had none available, but one was opening up in about six weeks.
So, I went out and got a second job (on top of the ball-mashing gig I already had), and played Kato Kaelin for the next month and a half.
It was all very awkward. The one bathroom was right next to the living room, and the walls were thin. I could sometimes hear a bed squeaking (at an astonishing tempo) down the hall… The six weeks couldn’t pass fast enough.
Eventually I moved-out, and at the end of their lease the happy couple upgraded to a better apartment, a half-mile down the road. And the last I heard, they were still together: almost 25 years later.
And that’s the extent of my non-girlfriend/relative roommate experience. I later lived with my brother for a while in Greensboro, and shacked-up with two girlfriends over the years. But there were no other real roommates.
I almost took the plunge once, for financial reasons. I ran an ad and “interviewed” some idiot at a bar in Greensboro. He arrived in a novelty tweed cap, had some sort of ironic button on the lapel of his jacket (Archie?), and I knew I’d want to strangle the pretentious son of bitch within two days. So I never called him back, and didn’t respond to any of the other callers, either.
Therefore, I feel kind of left-out when people start telling roommate horror stories. Mine are limited and fairly lame compared to others I’ve heard. But I’m going to open myself up to further feelings of inadequacy, and ask for your far superior tales.
And that’s the Question of the Day… Please use the comments link below to tell us about your roommate experiences, especially the bad ones; the bad ones are always best.
And I’ll see you guys again tomorrow.