For most people at some point, they have had random roommates. And also for a lot of people, that time is college. That’s usually for most people the time where they are just plopped into a jail cell sized room with no information other then the kids name. You have to hope for the best. Maybe this kid’s cool and likes to smoke pot and drink. Hopefully we double team a chick together. But the odds are he’s a serial masturbator and a potential murderer like all random roommates are. When I went to college I was an idiot (clearly) so went to a state school because that’s all I could get into. This left me with the only option of a random roommate.
My roommate in college was named Chris. Off the bat too normal of a name to be a normal guy. Red flag number one. The second red flag was that this kid had a peanut butter fetish. Kid shows up the first day with 5 family size jars of off name brand peanut butter. This kid housed peanut butter. I didn’t trust that this kid wasn’t fucking his peanut butter so I went out to get my own jar that lasted me the whole year because I’m all out on cummy peanut butter. Chris never left the room unless for class and play practice (we’ll get to that later). I on the other hand was a degenerate so I was never there unless to sleep. I’d wake up to skip class and go smoke some weed. After smoking weed I’d go start my drinking, finally returning home around 2-3 o’clock buckled almost everyday. Now Chris couldn’t sleep unless it was pitch black and silent… drunk slip is not the quietest person so the kid hated me. The kid was even there when I returned home with my finger hanging off (go read my earlier blog for the full story). So in this kid’s defense I look like a psychopath. But the kicker with this kid was, one day I was out day drink all day. So by the time night rolled around I had to go home and change into night attire. I go back to my room so I can grab a bag and shit. I walk into my roommate in his whitey tightys (no joke whitty tightys) sitting in his chair in an empty room, looking at a blank computer screen, listening to what I later learned was the “Avenue Q” sound track. A wild scene to walk into. I quickly gather my things as my roommate starts getting dressed. Weird, but ok. I’m assuming he wasn’t planning on company, but none the less I leave. Not after 5 steps do I realize I forgot my phone so I turn around to grab it. Mind you I’ve been gone for no more then 15 seconds. This kid, I shit you not, is back in his underwear listening to the God damn sound track again looking at a wall. I haul ass out of there because I think this kid is moments away from some kind of weird peanut butter orgy or some shit. There is no explanation for this unfathomable act. Not once do I address this with him and am stuck sleeping no more than 5 feet from the freak show. I’m surprised I’m alive after that. It’s like walking into a cult meeting… they are forced to kill you.
Now I might not be the best random roommate either but at least I did normal college kid things like cocaine and drinking. I’m sure if this kid isn’t in some kind of mental institution he’s saying he got the raw deal here being stuck with a kid who threw up in his room multiple times or would leave drugs out. But I’m here to say that I’m some how more normal than that kid. So remember all you Drunk Gamblers out there… don’t have random roommates no one wins and you might get killed.
P.S Chris if you’re reading this… it’s a different Chris that fucks peanut butter and jerks off to musicals