Ode To A College Roommate
Oct. 26th, 2002 12:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jackofallgeeksMy roommate is an ass. A bastard. A jerk.
A great majority of the time, I believe there is no redeaming quality to him save this:
He doesn't know it.
My family, thanks to my Mother's Father and my Father's Mother, is prone to a very explosive temper. It is this temper that can cause a mild-mannered person like Gene punch a hole through a door. As a thankful counter-balance, my Mother's Mother and Father's Father are not only even-tempered, but quite kindly. Generally, this personality type is the dominate one in my imediate family. As I should expect Claire, Leslie, and Rachel can attest to, there are very few things that get me mad. I shouldn't think any of them have ever seen me angry more than once, and never has that anger been turned towards them. This, too, is fortunate, as I do possess the Explosive Temper which is my heritage.
My roommate has made me angry on several occations, and were it not for the fact that he seems quite oblivious of the fact, there would have been a titanic conflict some time ago.
Firstly, I can take a good joke, I'm sure you'll all agree. All in fun, and that stuff. A small barb here and there is fine. However, Trevor has made a habit of cutting deep and making the barbs personal, and he doesn't have sense enough to stop. A roommate is witness to many private matters, just as there are few things you can hide from the person you live with. However, bringing such personal buisness to light in an offensive way infront of those who have no place in it is quite uncalled for. Along similar lines, it is generally poor form to tell a guy who just ended a relationship that he "has no chance" with any girl, or to point out in minute detail anything about said person that would make another relationship difficult. Prick.
When living with someone, it's generally each resident's own buisness and responsibility to manage their property - or put another way, keep your shit together. At the same time, there are certain things which are more or less communal, such as the Trash can. That can has sat there for a week without being dumped. This isn't the first time, either. This tends to say to me that he expect ME to keep tabs on the trash, and he's just going to let it go, because "Andrew will do it, eventually." But wait, the situation is agravated - I made popcorn the other day, when Jack was here, and the three of us passed the bag around and had our bit. The next day, he has the NEVER to say "You need to get this [popcorn] picked up, because I don't want stuff getting around here." Quoth the Andrew, "Hey, I [personally] didn't drop anything last night." I don't care who does it, really, but you DAMN well not expect ME to do it all. To which HE replies "Fine, then, I'll just sweep everything over to your side if you're just going to ignore it." The fuck you will.
Further, Trevor loves reminicing about his Highschool days. This, of course, is not problematic in itself - I'm sure we all have stories of our past we like to share. But when these stories consist of tormenting Freshmen and being an ass to an ex-girlfriend, I can't help but sit there and think, You have no idea how stupid you sound, do you? And he's just laughing there, as though throwing chocolate piudding at this poor girl is the funniest thing since sliced bread. That's not cool.
It also seems that I type rather loudly - I'd never noticed, myself, nor does it seem like something one can really regulate. I mean, might as well say I breathe loudly, y'know? But, he makes a point of it, and so I try (as much as one can) to type "more softly." So the other night, he decides to go to bed early, and I'm up working on my computer (of course. He knew I was compSci, he should've expected as much, no?) - infact, I was in a quite heated debate with my cousin, Kiki, over the justification behind the Death Penalty (specifically as it pertains to The Sniper). All of a sudden. Trevor turns his radio on and cranks the volume up (all while he's in bed, the lights are off, and it's about 11:30). It was so loud, I believe the people upstairs pounded on the floor a few times for quiet, though they never got it. A couple times the radio goes off (I assume he was using Sleep) but he jit it back on both times. I get in bed at about 12:30 and start listening to Ohverin (which actually blocked out most of his radio). However, I am the sort who needs relative quiet to go to sleep (and he knows this) and it's nearly 2:00 before the radio finally goes off. Inconsiderate? Definately, but maybe it could be explained away - doubtful, but maybe. I don't get up in the morning, as my class was cancelled, but I hear Trevor get up and go about his buisness. After comming home from work, I get a message from Trevor appologizing for "being so loud this morning, but the last couple of nights you've been getting on my nerves with your 'jackhammering' on the keyboard." Well, gee, I'm glad we can sit down and talk about it like adults, as opposed to resorting to juvinile acts of vengence. Bastard.
But wait, here's the king of them all - the one that puts me over the edge. You never - Never - refer to any girl I have feelings for in a degrading way, LEAST of all should you EVER refer to any such girl in a sexual context. Take a note, now - if you want to get in a out-and-out fight with me, make a sexual comment about a girl I know. I don't care if she's my cousin, my friend, OR if she rides horses, you want to keep all those teeth, you keep you fucking mouth shut, ass-hole. *seethes*
Like I said, his only redeeming quality is that he's so completely oblivious to what an ass he is. That doesn't make it right, but it keeps my first that much further from his face. In the last case, it's quite a fight not to take his thrice-damned head off his shoulders. In those cases, I've gone so far to tell him in no uncertain terms that there's a line and he just crossed it, and if he'd like to keep things clean, he'd better cut the crap and shut up. I won't stand for that - I just won't.
Anyways, now that my blood's boiling again from recalling all of this, I think I'm going to go find something to break. With any luck, it won't be in this room - then I'd have to pay for it. I just felt a need to let you all know that my roommate is a prick.
A great majority of the time, I believe there is no redeaming quality to him save this:
He doesn't know it.
My family, thanks to my Mother's Father and my Father's Mother, is prone to a very explosive temper. It is this temper that can cause a mild-mannered person like Gene punch a hole through a door. As a thankful counter-balance, my Mother's Mother and Father's Father are not only even-tempered, but quite kindly. Generally, this personality type is the dominate one in my imediate family. As I should expect Claire, Leslie, and Rachel can attest to, there are very few things that get me mad. I shouldn't think any of them have ever seen me angry more than once, and never has that anger been turned towards them. This, too, is fortunate, as I do possess the Explosive Temper which is my heritage.
My roommate has made me angry on several occations, and were it not for the fact that he seems quite oblivious of the fact, there would have been a titanic conflict some time ago.
Firstly, I can take a good joke, I'm sure you'll all agree. All in fun, and that stuff. A small barb here and there is fine. However, Trevor has made a habit of cutting deep and making the barbs personal, and he doesn't have sense enough to stop. A roommate is witness to many private matters, just as there are few things you can hide from the person you live with. However, bringing such personal buisness to light in an offensive way infront of those who have no place in it is quite uncalled for. Along similar lines, it is generally poor form to tell a guy who just ended a relationship that he "has no chance" with any girl, or to point out in minute detail anything about said person that would make another relationship difficult. Prick.
When living with someone, it's generally each resident's own buisness and responsibility to manage their property - or put another way, keep your shit together. At the same time, there are certain things which are more or less communal, such as the Trash can. That can has sat there for a week without being dumped. This isn't the first time, either. This tends to say to me that he expect ME to keep tabs on the trash, and he's just going to let it go, because "Andrew will do it, eventually." But wait, the situation is agravated - I made popcorn the other day, when Jack was here, and the three of us passed the bag around and had our bit. The next day, he has the NEVER to say "You need to get this [popcorn] picked up, because I don't want stuff getting around here." Quoth the Andrew, "Hey, I [personally] didn't drop anything last night." I don't care who does it, really, but you DAMN well not expect ME to do it all. To which HE replies "Fine, then, I'll just sweep everything over to your side if you're just going to ignore it." The fuck you will.
Further, Trevor loves reminicing about his Highschool days. This, of course, is not problematic in itself - I'm sure we all have stories of our past we like to share. But when these stories consist of tormenting Freshmen and being an ass to an ex-girlfriend, I can't help but sit there and think, You have no idea how stupid you sound, do you? And he's just laughing there, as though throwing chocolate piudding at this poor girl is the funniest thing since sliced bread. That's not cool.
It also seems that I type rather loudly - I'd never noticed, myself, nor does it seem like something one can really regulate. I mean, might as well say I breathe loudly, y'know? But, he makes a point of it, and so I try (as much as one can) to type "more softly." So the other night, he decides to go to bed early, and I'm up working on my computer (of course. He knew I was compSci, he should've expected as much, no?) - infact, I was in a quite heated debate with my cousin, Kiki, over the justification behind the Death Penalty (specifically as it pertains to The Sniper). All of a sudden. Trevor turns his radio on and cranks the volume up (all while he's in bed, the lights are off, and it's about 11:30). It was so loud, I believe the people upstairs pounded on the floor a few times for quiet, though they never got it. A couple times the radio goes off (I assume he was using Sleep) but he jit it back on both times. I get in bed at about 12:30 and start listening to Ohverin (which actually blocked out most of his radio). However, I am the sort who needs relative quiet to go to sleep (and he knows this) and it's nearly 2:00 before the radio finally goes off. Inconsiderate? Definately, but maybe it could be explained away - doubtful, but maybe. I don't get up in the morning, as my class was cancelled, but I hear Trevor get up and go about his buisness. After comming home from work, I get a message from Trevor appologizing for "being so loud this morning, but the last couple of nights you've been getting on my nerves with your 'jackhammering' on the keyboard." Well, gee, I'm glad we can sit down and talk about it like adults, as opposed to resorting to juvinile acts of vengence. Bastard.
But wait, here's the king of them all - the one that puts me over the edge. You never - Never - refer to any girl I have feelings for in a degrading way, LEAST of all should you EVER refer to any such girl in a sexual context. Take a note, now - if you want to get in a out-and-out fight with me, make a sexual comment about a girl I know. I don't care if she's my cousin, my friend, OR if she rides horses, you want to keep all those teeth, you keep you fucking mouth shut, ass-hole. *seethes*
Like I said, his only redeeming quality is that he's so completely oblivious to what an ass he is. That doesn't make it right, but it keeps my first that much further from his face. In the last case, it's quite a fight not to take his thrice-damned head off his shoulders. In those cases, I've gone so far to tell him in no uncertain terms that there's a line and he just crossed it, and if he'd like to keep things clean, he'd better cut the crap and shut up. I won't stand for that - I just won't.
Anyways, now that my blood's boiling again from recalling all of this, I think I'm going to go find something to break. With any luck, it won't be in this room - then I'd have to pay for it. I just felt a need to let you all know that my roommate is a prick.
