- He talks to himself in the bathroom. This is not the typical "singing in the shower" thing that many of us are guilty of (I am the best wet and soapy Eponine from Les Miserables ever). This is more like an internal argument, except without the "internal". I figured this out when I heard him in there, mumbling about something, and then heard him saying quite clearly, "Well, now that part is true." I thought maybe he'd brought his phone in there to chat with someone while he dropped the kids off at the lake, but no. Phone was safely being charged in his room. Whatever, it seems whatever the problem was got resolved.
- The bad news is that I'll never ever ever be a supermodel and neither will Kristen. The good news is I've finally found a name for my apartment. We will either be calling it the House of Fat or the Fat Palace. This is in no small part to the fact that the bartender seems to be genetically programmed to feed everything in sight. I've had chocolate muffins for breakfast for the last 4 days in a row. Kristen stopped finishing her breakfast, which I quickly deduced was because the bartender was feeding her turkey and cheese every time he walked in the door. He also leaves bags of Chex Mix laying around with notes on them: "YES!" "Your fav?" "The cheese kind!" He then acts surprised about the fact that Krissy associates his presence with food.
- Aging punk rockers tend to have a boatload of CDs, and I base that on the one aging punk rocker I know. Six. Six friggin boxes of CDs that I crazily offered to alphabetize, which took me two days. It was a learning experience. Aside from the expected assortment of Ramones/Social D/NOFX/Anti-Flag/Clash/Rancid/etc. records, I came across a few unexpected items that were occasionally downright scary. I thought at first they were things that just got left by ex-girlfriends, but it turns out that was not the case. Enya? "I like her music." Shania Twain? "She's fuckin' hot!" I suggested he could have just bought a poster like a normal person. "Yeah, but that album was produced by the guy who produces AC/DC." Oh, well in that case... Movies are my next assignment, but my question is, do I need to alphabetize all the porn, or should I just keep them all in the same spot (maybe under P, for "porn")?
- A fax machine? Why, and what the hell? "You never know when you might need to fax something in an emergency." He seemed undeterred by the fact that we don't have a phone line.
- I've been trying to come up with some kind of altered name for my roommate/bartender, but it's not working out too well. "Barmate" sounds like my drinking buddy and "roomtender" sounds like my maid, neither of which are particularly true. I may need something more descriptive of him, like "Spike the Cheese-eater" or "Drunky McSnore" or "Fart Master J".
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Roommate: Week One
The bartender has lived at my place for a full week now.