My First Roommate

Holly Hicks

My First Roommate

         Wow!  Writing about my first roommate could be a comedic novel within itself.  As a college freshman, my mom decided it would be safer for me to live in an apartment my first year rather then a dorm.  I know that sounds opposite of what most parents would say, but there were a lot of assaults and rapes taking place on campus at this time, so my mom wanted me to get a place off campus.  However, because none of my friends were going to Auburn and all of them were going to the University of Georgia, I did not know anyone to room with.  The always efficient apartment complexes were prepared for such a crisis and implemented the program called, “Roommate Matching.”  It sounds pretty harmless right...Well, not really.
         When I first walked into my new apartment, I noticed holes punched into the walls.  One would think that that would have been a red flag, but being a mindless college freshman, I went to the main office and politely asked them to fix the gaping holes.  Because I rushed a sorority, I arrived at the apartment a whole week before my roommate, so I was excited about her arrival.  She had called me a few times prior to our first meeting to discuss the bills and expressed how excited she was to meet me as well.
         When we finally met, she seemed perfectly normal (aside from the Tweety Bird slippers that she wore everywhere; I mean literally she wore them everywhere.  This went right along with the nickname her friends had given her, which was “Bird”).  So, things started out okay until one day I noticed all of my food missing out of the kitchen cabinets.  I asked what happened, and she calmly stated that she and her boyfriend had gotten hungry during the middle of the night and eaten all of my food!  She also NEVER bought laundry detergent to wash her clothes in.  Why should she waste all that food stamp money when she could just use mine?
         “Okay,” I thought, “I can deal with someone eating my food and using my detergent if that is the worst thing that happens.”  But unfortunately, it was not.  Many more instances would happen that still shock me even today.
         One night, I woke up to the sound of screaming.  It turns out that she and her boyfriend (who, by the way, lived in our apartment rent free) fought every night.  She later explained to me that they had been fighting and dating for five years and this is just what they did.  But each fight, she would pick up an object that was sitting around the house (and oddly enough they would always belong to me) and throw it at him.  I would walk out only to see the stuff that I had brought from home miss its intended target and shatter against the wall.  One of the objects that was destroyed one night was a glass basket that my mother had given me.  My mom knew I loved butterflies, and the basket had a purple butterfly on the top of it.  I remember finding the shattered pieces of the basket in the trashcan.  I did not have to question my roommate about what happened, because I already knew.  I definitely had no need to watch Jerry Springer.  I was living in a permanent episode. 
         But, the drama did not stop there.  One morning, I got out of bed only to find a shirt and a pair shorts covered in blood lying in the kitchen trashcan.  My initial thought was that maybe she had had an accident of some sort, but she did not look hurt.  Being the inquisitive, nosey person that I am, I finally asked my roommate where the clothes had come from.  She told me that after I had gone to bed, her boyfriend had gotten really angry with her.  He had actually picked up a VCR and thrown it at her.  She never said if it hit her or not, but I have always assumed that it did not because she was able to retaliate, and in retaliation she picked up a pair of scissors and stabbed him in the leg (hence the bloody shirt and shorts).  This stabbing resulted in a hospital visit and a humongous hole in the wall where the VCR hit.  After this incident, I finally connected the dots and realized how the holes that I had the apartment complex fix got there.
         Many more small fighting episodes took place, but none of this magnitude.  When our lease was up, it was safe to say that I “got the heck out of dodge.”  I do not know if this loving couple is still together today or not, but for their safety and the safety of all the VCR’s of the world, I hope and pray that they are not.