After I made the cab journey from LaGuardia to Brooklyn and crash-landed on my friend’s couch, I did the hard work of finding some Craigslist randos with which to live. I met with a few apartments, but the dream apartment—the one with the most space, light, and affordability chose me and I moved in. By all objective accounts, I lucked out. My roommates are smart, interesting, respectful, and (mostly) clean. I even get to share a nice couch, a flat-screen tv in the living room, and dishes! So this is just sort of general complaints one could have about their roommates, if they have any at all:
1. Ain’t No Damn Chip-Clips. Growing up I never had the luxury of using a “chip-clip” to seal open food containers. My family was big on rubber bands. As an adult I really do see the appeal of the chip-clip. For starters, it’s two steps: fold bag, clip bag. It also is cost-effective, being probably $5 for a set of 8-10 in different sizes and colors. How do you not have any chip-clips? I don’t eat chips anymore, but I do have qualms with open food containers summoning the insect creepy-crawlies from the depths of unwashed Brooklyn. Too often I resort to using whatever fuzzy hair-tie I can find on the floor to secure the bags. Not okay!
2. The Thermostat War. To quote my mother: I’m not payin to heat up the outside! The weather has been slowly cooling down since October, and the moment I noticed it, I undertook the arduous task of removing the A/C unit from my window. It was dangerous—I put a garbage bag on my bed to shield it from whatever muck adhered to the bottom of the exposed unit. It was heavy—I am a small woman with no muscles to speak of—but somehow I got it done. I’m not saying I’m the busiest roommate, but I do think that if I can find 15 minutes to remove and store my a/c unit to encourage a maximum apt. temp of 68*, then I think you can too! Until then, I guess I’ll just keep waking up in the middle of the night to molten temperatures and moist skin. Yikes.
3. Boys…Just…Face Hair!!! I get it, being a boy is tough. Having an inexplicable condition where your face transforms into a werewolf overnight is inconvenient at best. It’s almost as inconvenient as me puking in my mouth when I’m about to brush my teeth because I see the beard homicide that has replaced my once sparkly bathroom. I should not be tempted to pet the sink! We’ve gotta do something about this face-fuzz issue. Perhaps a plastic grocery bag can catch the hairs before the sink does? Maybe we can all put a few bucks towards a dust-buster? I’m just riffing, but any suggestions would be appreciated. (also: this is not my sink, omg if this was my sink I’d jump off a cliff)
4. Drunk Binges. Not to be confused with “Binge Drinking,” drunk binges consist of getting utterly shipwrecked and proceeding to eat all of my cheese out of the fridge. I should probably thank you for keeping my diet in-tact, but I was really looking forward to that grilled cheese all day and now I have to settle for a mustard and mayonnaise sandwich. Tragic.
Is it horrible that I can’t even think of another problem? That’s how good I’ve got it. But yeah, do you have roommates? What gripes do you have?