Rough Draft #1 (be nice)

DeMarus Allen
Roommate Camaraderie

“What the fuck” he said while sitting on the top bunk with his girlfriend. To best understand this story we must go deeper. One of the most exciting and worrisome time in my college application process is not worrying about whether or not I would get into Northwestern, but where I would live. For months I pain over which dorm I would pick to live in and what order they would be placed on a list from one to five. The day we received our housing contracts is a day I will not forget. I opened my email waited patiently as my computer load and I found out that I was in Shepard Residential College. My heart sunk because Shepard was number two on my list and I was rejected from Willard, my “dream dorm”

On the housing contract was the name of my soon to be roommate Christopher Michael Warren. After recovering from my rejection, I began to wonder about Christopher Michael Warren. I thought, where’s he from, is he republican? Two weeks before school started I received and email from Chris telling me about how he is from Rockford Il, a dairy farmer and a far left liberal that sleeps with the fan on. After the email followed a series of late night phone calls in which we decided on how to arrange our room, what to bring etc. But most importantly we talked about alcohol and sexiling, maybe it’s the republican in me (I am a far left liberal so there’s very little) but I have a very low tolerance for excessive alcohol use and my roommate having sex at my expense.

The week before moving into my dorm and new student week, I attended a program called FUP (Freshman Urban Program) where I met Chelsea Slaven, Chris’s future girlfriend. She was the sweetest person I met in a long time, naïve, devoted catholic, short and spunky. I can honestly say she was one of the people that I admired the best and aspired to be like. The first day of school I introduced Chelsea to my dairy-farming roommate Chris Warren. Unfortunately for me they hit it off right way and on the second day of new student week they became an item. At first I was ok with it, and I thought they were such a wonderful couple and some of the nicest people that I had ever met, until I found a retainer on my bed.

With each romantic relationship comes sexual attraction, and for two extremely repressed teenagers who away from home for the first time, sex is a newfound pleasure.

The night I had found the retainer on my bed I had seen Chelsea and Chris making out on my bed a few hours before. When I walked in on them I was ready to go to bed, but when I walked in Chelsea. “You don’t mind us on your bed do you? I love you’re jersey sheets” my reply was in a very sarcastic manner, “I don’t mind as long as you don’t cum on the sheets,” I slammed the door and went back downstairs to practice. When I returned two hours later I was happy to see that they were no longer on my bed, but in place of the couple was a pink dental retainer. I almost threw up.

The next day I confronted Chris about this “little” incident he said that he was extremely sorry and that it would never happen again. However that was just the beginning of sexiling that would begin, but we’re going to skip this and get straight to the juicy part of this story.

“Ahh” I heard Chelsea moan in ecstasy. Immediately I woke up and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Earlier that night I told Chris not to have anyone over and try not to make so much noise because I had a final in the morning, he said ok, and I went to bed. When I looked at the clock I saw that it was 3 a.m. and on the couch directly across from me on the couch was Chris and Chelsea doing the “monkey dance.” So I began to move around in my bed to make my presence known, but they still didn’t get picture.

In anger and rage I shouted, “It’s three fucking a.m. and I have a final in the morning.”
Chelsea responded, “I am sorry we thought you were.”
I said. “I was until you moaned.”
And final Chris chimed in and said, “You’re usually out like a light!”
Even more upset I screamed, “ So you did this more than once.”
Embarrassed Chelsea grabbed random items of clothing and ran out of the room.

Once again I had a conversation with Chris about respect but with the RA. But for some reason it didn’t click with him, so he continued to bring his girlfriend for late love sessions. And my search for a new roommate.

After a long ordeal with housing I finally was able to get a new roommate. One would think that switching rooms would be an easy process, for some reason Northwestern University makes it a long drawn out process for no apparent reason, complete with searches interviews so and on and so forth. Nonetheless, at the end of this ordeal I was able to get a new roommate.

While I was still living with Chris he seemed do go from bad to worse, which brings us to the beginning of the story. On the night before I completely moved out my roommate said to me. “When are you moving out of MY room, because you need to be out by tonight.” See it wouldn’t be bad if I hadn’t just got back from rehearsal, it wasn’t 1 in the morning, or the fact that I was moving out because of his sex life. But when he when he said “my room” something inside of me began to rumble like mount vasubeus. Instead of responding to him I continue to do my homework and pretend as if he weren’t there. And then Chelsea came in the room.

Chris then stripped down to his boxers and climbed onto his bed. After turning off the lights Chelsea daintily made her up the ladder to the top bunk. Meanwhile I was doing my homework and need the light that she had just turned off. Carefully I searched around my room to find my water pitcher. Before you judge me, I have one thing to say, “Those without sin cast the first stone.” Without either of them noticing I left the room and went to the bathroom to fill my pitcher up with ice cold water. Then I went to my room and sat at my desk and waited for my time to strike. Meanwhile our neighbor was playing Aretha Franklin’s 60’s hit “Respect,” which pretty much inspired my next action.

Without notice I rose from my desk and collected all my valuable collections left in the room (i.e. my clarinet case and laptop) and the pitcher of water. I am not really sure what happened next but all I remember is Chris screaming “What the fuck” while he and Chelsea sat on the bed soaking wet.