Roommates. They can “make” or “break” a college experience. After three years of living in absurdly small quarters with girls, I decided to move off-campus into an apartment. Now, I live with three burly young men who don’t know their own strength, have an aversion to ever wearing shirts, and cannot seem to grasp the simple task of putting the toilet seat down.
As you could imagine, going from rooming with girls to living co-ed is quite a difference. Since we’ve moved in I have found myself in some surprising situations, not to mention some unexpected conversations. Just the other day I found myself explaining the acronym “PMS” and that no, it did not mean that special time of month just yet.
Most of the time at home, I’m being picked up, tossed, forcibly tickled, or sat on. One of the weirder (and admittedly more comical) moments ended with me on my ass on the kitchen floor, soaking wet and half naked.
Like any boys, my roommates always find it fun to play some playful pranks on one another. One night my roommate Sam decided to pour a bowl of cold water on Jake while he was in the shower. There were shouts, laughs, and some promises of redemption. Seemingly harmless prank, right? But I had a feeling this could spark a war.
Not long after, when it came time for me to shower, I took some precautionary measures, that had apparently eluded the boys, like locking the door or even closing it for that matter. As the girl and being significantly tinier than they are, I can be an easy target. I took no chances and made sure that the door locked firmly behind me before stepping into the shower. I kept my ears peeled while I was shampooing and sure enough, I heard the soft jiggling of a door handle and the hurried whispers of the two pranksters outside.
“I can hear you guys,” I shouted.
“Damn it!” Jake shouted, “Why did you lock the door?” Well that seemed like a stupid question. I heard some laughs and then the heavy patter of muffled footsteps heading away from the door.
I took my time when I got out of the shower, pressing my ear to the door a few times to make sure they weren’t waiting for me outside, ready to ambush as I crossed the threshold. I only heard silence. I opened the door and stuck my head out, surveying the scene. Jake was on the couch reading. He looked up at me.
“What?” He asked.
“Oh, nothing,” I said, swiveling my head back and forth checking for anything out of the ordinary, any mischievousness.
Jake went back to his book. Where was Sam? I wasn’t waiting around to find out. I made a beeline for my room, running as fast as I could, being in just a towel. As I sprinted through the kitchen, I was hit from behind with freezing cold water, soaked from head to toe, with Sam hiding behind the fridge. Before I could process what had happened, I found myself careening out of control across the kitchen, sliding across the tile and slamming straight into the opposite wall, with only sheetrock to break my fall. I clutched at my towel for dear life and crumpled to the floor, defeated but laughing just the same.
The boys, hysterically laughing, rushed over to make sure I was okay.
“I didn’t know you would be running!” Sam said between laughs. As if dumping water on me as I strolled across the apartment would have made it okay.
“You boys are very lucky my towel stayed on, or you would be in even bigger trouble,” I said, struggling to my feet from my very own puddle of defeat. They looked at each other and smirked,
“I’d say that was pretty unlucky, actually,” Sam said. I shook my head and told them to clean up the floor. I walked to my room, and smiled, making my own promises for revenge.
Despite the pranks, the broken cups and bowls, the decapitated wooden spoons from the late night pots-and-pans jam sessions, the deodorant in the refrigerator, and even the always-up toilet seat, I cannot help but love my boys. Everyday I can’t wait to come home to them…as long as they’re not waiting at the door with a bucket of cold water that is.
And as for my college experience…these guys are definitely “making” it.