I think I mentioned a while ago that I’ve got another new roommate – his name is Ray (just like the last one, whom I am starting to miss terribly). And he is CRAZY. And not too bright (especially considering he’s had 28 years of experience on this planet and hasn’t blown himself up yet).
A laundry list of things I find strange and/or absolutely idiotic about the new Ray:
-He uses girls’ deoderant (Dove for sensitive skin) – in fact, the only distinctively male product in the bathroom is a bottle of Armani Mania (which, tragically, I hate).
-He also seems to be preparing for some sort of personal hygiene product crisis. He has at least 5 (usually more) of each of the following under the sink: Sticks of deoderant, tubes of toothpaste, bottles of shampoo, bars of soap, bottles of Gold Bond powder, bottles of Listerene, pairs of Dr. Scholl’s shoe inserts. Also keep in mind that none of these are the Costco multipacks – they’re all singles.
-He is so high strung that if I say something to him when he’s not looking, and not expecting to hear me speak, he’ll actually flinch with surprise – I’d expect the same reaction out of a normal person if I jumped out from behind a wall wearing a Jason mask and brandishing a meat cleaver.
-He asks me if I mind if he showers EVERY time he has a shower when I’m home and awake. Just in case I need the bathroom, or the sound of the shower might annoy me, or something… Along the same lines, he turns on the shower three separate times. Water on for 5-7 minutes, water off for 3-5 minutes. I’m not sure what he’s doing during the gaps between showers, but it seems odd.
-He was making coffee this morning, and asked me “this didn’t brew too well yesterday, do you think I need to grind this some more? (pointing at the jar)” It’s INSTANT. I told him that no, you just add boiling water to it, you don’t put it in the drip machine. He looked at me like I was Aristotle and just revealed the meaning of life.
-He tried to assemble an Ikea desk, and broke it. Tiny chunks of MDF everywhere. It looks like he attacked it with the hammer. He obviously skipped the “square peg: round hole” day in preschool.
-He burnt himself while ironing a shirt. Not totally unexpected, I’ve done the same myself. But he burnt his BICEP. What. the. fuck. Was he ironing the shirt while it was on his body?
I swear to all things holy, if I don’t manage to kill him in the next year or so, I am NEVER having a roommate again.