A goofy smile spread over the Denise the RA’s face, “You know your new roommate just tried to meet you.”
“Really?” I asked, confused.
“Yeah, he’s from Spain and hardly speaks any English. He said he knocked on the door but your music was up and you probably didn’t hear him. He came back down here and said that he thinks his roommate hates him and that he’s spending the night with a friend in Mahoney.”
“Really?” I asked stupidly. “Wow. Talk about first impressions.”
Denise’s snicker escorted me back to the elevators. I had gone downstairs to ask for toilet paper and didn’t expect to be told I had unknowingly offended my new roommate. “Oh well,” I thought clutching the toilet paper and walking towards my dorm, “at least I can go potty now… which is surely more important.”
The next day I woke up around noon and skipped over to the gym. While swaying on the elliptical machine I tried to picture my new roommate: his accent, his mannerisms. I envisioned him as a short guy with greasy slicked back black hair, yellow teeth and a forest of chest hair. His name would be Juan-Carlos and he’d have a new girl trashier than his taste in clothes every night.
I also imagined that he’d have smelly feet – although the guy huffing on treadmill next to me probably influenced that guess.
Squished back sweat laden to the dorm and collected new clothes to change into after my shower. As I turned the door knob of the bathroom I heard a knock on my door.
Then another.
I opened the dorm door cautiously and peered at the two guys standing in the hallway. The one with midlength brown hair appeared to be in his mid 30’s and the other, who was blond and blue eyed, was probably in his mid 20’s. Both had that deer-in-the-headlights sort of look in their eyes that Europeans have when they come to America so I wasn’t surprised by the accented “Hellos”.
They shook my hand while saying names that I promptly forgot and looked at the room. “This is bed? This is my bed?” asked the middle aged one.
“I suppose so, are you my new roommate?” I asked suddenly conscious of my gym stench. “Are you an undergraduate?”
“Six. Six credit.” The brown haired guy burbled while looking at the bare mattress.
The blond chimed in. “He has only six credits left to get his degree.”
“Oh, so a senior?” I asked.
“Six credit,” Brown repeated still looking around. “You have… nice room.” He said as he gaped at my posters, plants, and aquariums.
They were in the room for about three minutes when they started to leave. “We are going to get luggage,” the blond said as they left.
“Okay…”
I let the door slam and stood in the middle of the room. A&E went on commercial break and came back but I stood there in silence – having forgotten about my stench, sweaty clothes, and shower.
“What the hell was that?” I finally asked the room.
The heads of two turtles rose out of an aquarium pool in response. I glared at them for making me realize I just spoke to myself and went in the shower.
The roommate never came back that day, or the next.
Today I entered the dorm lobby from work, greeted Denise the RA, and walked over to the row of mailboxes. After pulling out a piece of paper informing me my bathroom was scrubbed because some kid got diarrhea I went back to the counter to say something to Denise when Brown and Blond approached me.
Brown mumbled something unintelligible and barely in English and shoved a paper in my face. It was a room change request form. I handed him the diarrhea notice and signed the request form. He was going to move in with Blond but for whatever reason the university requires your current roommate to give you his or her blessing to move.
I gave it, and then left Brown in the lobby wondering what the diarrhea notice was for as Denise started cackling again.
…now I need a new roommate before they stick me with someone else.
