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July 7, 2005
Housemates
Our first housemate is a big, fine piece of man. He works out a lot, and looks like he should play football at the semi-professional level.
Also, it took us a surprisingly long time to realize that he was gay. A few days after we did, however, he was dressing up before going to a club, and wanted our opinions on how he looked.
"Does this necklace make me look gay," He asked.
"Not really. I wore a similar one for a while in high school," I said.
"Damnit," he said, "That's not what I wanted to hear. On the days when I'm the most dolled up, I go into work, and they say, 'My, you're looking ambiguous today.' But I'm going for flaming!"
Our second housemate is an pretty much a beach bum. He's the kind of guy who you imagine goes to college in Charleston, South Carolina. He's got an unbelievable tan, and a surfboard. He doesn't have a car, but he's always got a ride to the beach. When I leave my laptop downstairs he frequents the bulletin board for his friends' jam band.
The biggest surprise during our first four weeks here was that no one noticed him smelling like weed. We simply don't believe that he doesn't smoke. We know he's in trouble with the law, because a public defender keeps calling, and Housemate #1 claims to have seen papers suggesting that it is for possession and for selling. Housemate #2 says it's for DUI.
I'm not sure who to believe. I am, however, sure that this is Housemate #2's coffee mug:
Housemate #2 is also remarkable for his ability to say the most amazing things without the slightest hint of irony.
A few days ago, I was reading Daniel Dennett in the living room and I stumbled on a word I didn't know. I asked if Ruth knew what it meant, and he overheard. He asked for the context around the word. I knew that it wouldn't help -- the sentence was fairly dense -- but I read it aloud anyway.
He said, as though he were the first to consider the issue, "Man, I hate it when philosophers use like overly complex phrasings and shit."
Thanks for your help, Housemate #2.
For the last week he has done an absolute minimum of house cleaning. He does maybe forty percent of his own dishes, and he doesn't even wipe off the counter after he makes a sandwich. Then, today, he gets in a mood and cleans like a man on a mission. He does a couple of our dishes. He wipes down the stovetop. He bleaches the trashcan.
Later, after Ruth and I have eaten dinner, he says, "Hey guys, thanks for cleaning up after yourselves." He says it earnestly, as though it's the first time this summer anyone in the house has been big enough to do so.
No problem, man. We're just following your lead. This cleanliness thing you invented today, it's pretty keen.
Posted by todd at July 7, 2005 7:44 PM
Comments
Todd, you're dangerously close to becoming The Man.
Posted by: Keith at July 8, 2005 12:36 AM
It's true. Which reminds me, I need to send someone to change the batteries in the bug in your apartment.
Posted by: todd. at July 8, 2005 12:50 AM
What was the word?
Posted by: tony at July 15, 2005 6:03 PM
Don't recall. I just went and tried to find it, and was unsuccessful.
Posted by: todd. at July 15, 2005 9:16 PM
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