If you carefully followed my instructions last month, you should now be gainfully employed and well on your way to living a wonderful and fantastic life like mine.
You’re probably getting tired of living in that rusted-out travel trailer in your parents’ backyard and thinking about getting your own place. You’re just getting started, and to be frank, your credit sucks, and you’re still mostly broke.
You’re going to need a roommate to share some of the expenses of living. You can move in with a friend, cousin, or sibling; take down phone numbers off bathroom walls; or search Craigslist, which is basically the internet’s version of a bathroom wall.
If you decide to move in with someone you already know, be prepared to begin hating his or her guts.
Your sweet cousin, who you’ve known since birth, is the hugest slob on the face of the planet. He hocks giant loogies in the sink and doesn’t rinse them down. Your high school best friend is a giant slut, and you’re going to be privy to every trick she brings home at 4 in the morning. Your little brother never pays the bills on time and spends all day playing Madden ’11 in his underwear in the living room.
I’ve had 18 different roommates. “¦ one fed magic mushrooms to the cat, one listened to Seal’s “Kiss From a Rose” on repeat for a solid week, one huffed Vicks VapoInhalers for fun”¦
Within three months, you will have lost all respect for this person you once loved. You will be so fed up with the mud tracked in on filthy boots, or her failure to flush the toilet after dropping the kids off at the pool, or the pile of moldy dishes in the sink, or his tendency to DVR scrambled, late-night, soft-core pornography, or her giving her boyfriend a key to the front door, that you’ll be ready to rip his or her face off the next time he or she comes home.
You won’t do it, though. You’ll leave a note, and she’ll tell all her friends what a jackass you are. You’ll tell all your mutual friends about her whorishness, or how he still hasn’t put sheets on his bed, or how you walked in on her when she was passed out on the sofa watching Dirty Dancing with her pants around her ankles (TRUE STORY).
You’ll hate each other and stop speaking, and if the offending roommate was a family member, Thanksgiving dinner will be tense for years to come.
If you choose living with a random stranger from the internet, all these same things will drive you crazy, but because you have no ties to the random stranger, you won’t feel the need to leave passive-aggressive notes. You can openly ridicule him to your group of friends. You’ll be able to vent to your crew about what a complete weirdo you live with.
You’ll confront your differences head on, he’ll tell you you’re a fascist jerk, one of you will move out, and you’ll never speak again. No harm, no foul. You were never friends to start with.
I speak from experience. I began sharing dorms, apartments, and houses with roommates in 1995.
I’ve had 18 different roommates. One took antipsychotics, one tried to sleep with my 16-year-old sister, one fed magic mushrooms to the cat, one listened to Seal’s “Kiss From a Rose” on repeat for a solid week, one huffed Vicks VapoInhalers for fun, one told me my “lifestyle wasn’t conducive to” her “relationship with Jesus,” one never spoke a word to me all school year, one spent 19 hours a day on AOL Chat, one let her boyfriend and his children move in without asking me, one was obsessed with death, one asked me to move out because his boyfriend cheated on him and he believed it to be my fault, and yes, one passed out while pleasuring herself to Dirty Dancing. But I am sure they’d all tell you that I was the weirdo.
Good luck with your roommate hunting! Everyone’s a disgusting pig. Even Mrs. Judge Mental.