Ugh. Roommates. So I’ve had the same roommate for over a year now, which must be some kind of record. Having roommates is hard. Being a roommate is hard. Everyone has their own way of living and their own expectations of how to live in a house with other people. But I think there are some common sense aspects that everyone understands. Usually. My roommate would be one of the exceptions. Before living with me, he had never lived on his own before. He is 21 and lived with his grandmother up until a year ago. So being on his own is totally new to him.
I had been advertising on kijiji and usedregina looking for a roommate and he answered my ad. We set up a time for him to come and look at the place. He was running a bit late so I had texted him to see when he would be there since I had plans that afternoon. He told me he was just finishing packing up a few things and would be over within a half hour.
The doorbell rings and I open the door to be greeted be a giant of a man. Picture this: He’s first nations, has long black hair, a moustache, stands 6’ 8” tall, and is only wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt with a denim vest covered in band patches over top in the middle of winter. He looks intimidating, to say the least. And he says nothing. Literally the only thing he said to me was “hi”. I showed him the room and the house and he grunted a bit and then walked back to the front door and started putting on his boots. I looked at my friend who was over and was all, wtf? I follow him to the door and thank him for coming and he finally starts talking. He asks me how much the rent and damage deposit is and then pulls out a wad of cash and hands it to me. I’m like, oh…so you want the room? He says yeah, I just have to bring my stuff in. When he told me he was packing, he was literally packing to move in as soon as he showed up to my house. I couldn’t even get a read on this guy yet, and he wanted to move in. It wasn’t even the end of the month and the room I had just showed him still had stuff in it. So I told him that I needed to clean out the room and that I had plans so he would have to come back in a few hours.
I was feeling a bit of weird about this kid. My friend and I went shopping and I checked the texts he had sent me the night before. I had been out at the bar so I didn’t really remember what they said. But when I reread them, he sounded like a really nice young man. So I felt way less trepidation about this guy who showed up ready to move in. He moved his stuff in later that night. He didn’t have much. Basically his clothes, a tv and gaming system, and a couple boxes of random stuff. I gave him my old bed, a shelft, and some Rubbermaid drawers that I wasn’t using. I even provided him with blankets and some old pillows. He was seriously unprepared to live on his own.
He’s a very nice young man. He asked me if there were any house rules, like having people over, curfew, things like that. I kind of looked at him like he was nuts. Curfew? He was being considerate because my bedroom window is right by the front door and he was worried that if he came home too late, it would bother me. I told him not to worry about things like that, just be respectful and clean up after himself. Things were pretty good for quite awhile. He didn’t talk much and we didn’t spend any time together. If I was going to go out running errands, or getting groceries, I would ask if he wanted to come since he doesn’t have a car, or even a license. He was never afraid to ask for favours. If he and his friends needed a ride, or if he needed a ride somewhere, he would ask. I helped him out a couple of times, but I drew the line at driving he and his friends around. I have a 2 door and he’s 6’8”. And I’m 6’. And his brother is 6’5”. As if there’s enough room for all of us in my car, plus one more person!
He has started to slide over the time he’s been living with me though. Before I go into details, let me tell you, I am messy. I like a clean house, but I like being lazy more, and cleaning is not high on my list of priorities. I also have a lot of stuff and not a lot of space. So it gets cluttered very easily. Because of this, I’m relatively laidback about other people’s messes. Until I’m not. My roommate does not use a lot of dishes. If it can’t be made in the microwave, he doesn’t make it. It’s even better if it comes in it’s own container so that he doesn’t have to use anything other than a fork. Every now and again there will be containers of leftovers in our fridge, so I assume his grandma sends stuff home with him. He often takes that for work. But then never washes the containers. Currently, there is a pile of his dirty containers that have been sitting on the counter for about 3 weeks. I refuse to wash them and he hasn’t washed a dish since I don’t know when. He used to wash dishes. He would even wash mine. I can’t remember the last time that happened though. Because he usually only uses a couple of forks and a glass or two, I don’t mind doing them. But I’m not washing his gross mouldy containers. I’m going to throw them out right away. Oh, I also like to play these games that only I know I’m playing. Like a Mexican standoff, except with dishes and garbage.
Stay tuned for more stories.
the hungry cinderella 