Words by Kiana Duncan
They look like everyday people in the daylight—you might not even know if you’ve met one—but once, maybe just once, something caught your attention that made you take a second look at this person. Maybe it was the time you saw him leaving Rosie’s at 3 a.m. Maybe it was her *gasp* Akron accent.
But once you see it, you can’t unsee it. And you certainly can’t live with it. Bad roommates.
Remember, the important thing to remember is that they are not nearly as scared of you as you are of them. This is because they think they can do no wrong. They’re arrogant creatures that feed on three-day-old pizza and live in a comforter that their annoying mom dropped off when she visits every weekend. I’ve gotten pretty lucky when it comes to roommates, but that doesn’t mean I can’t wait at the stop of your struggle bus. I got you, boo. Here’s your guide to bad roommates.
Frankenstein: You’re not sure what’s wrong with this guy at first. He seems nice enough. Maybe a little off, maybe shy or awkward, but that’s to be expected on the first day. Then, on week three, it hits you. He doesn’t really talk. At all. You’ve tried everything: sports, video games, insulting his mother, hitting on his girlfriend and nothing works. The most you’ve gotten out of him is a grunt or some words he mumbled in his sleep. When he actually does leave the room, you wonder where he even goes. You wonder how he even functions as a human being. How does he order food? How did he even start dating his girlfriend? Does she know they’re dating? You begin to take notes on everything he does. Maybe he’s the most fascinating person you’ve ever met. Maybe he has a secret life. Probably not. You’re going to have to wait this one out, bro. He just doesn’t talk, and while that would drive an extrovert like me into a mental institution, it really isn’t doing you any harm. You’re going to make friends outside of your hall, so don’t sweat it.
The Banshee: You heard her coming down the hall on the first day. The horrible shriek could be heard from a mile away. Since then, you’ve known about every room, lecture, or universe you’ve been in together because her voice is just so—distinct. Yeah, let’s go with distinct. She probably has a New Jersey or some other obnoxious accent that makes communicating nearly impossible. The Chinese international student in your class is probably easier to understand because at least you know what he’s talking about. The topics of this girl’s conversations are probably completely foreign or irrelevant. Her squawking is most likely made up of mating calls to frat guys, complaints that would appall third world nations, and constant obsessing over her big/little.
Key phrases can be found below
- “Yaas betch this my soooong!”
- “Omg, I totally left my favorite Michael Kors at home and it’s actually the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
- “Can I have a decaf non-fat with half and half, no foam, extra whip and soy milk? What do you mean there’s no coffee in it now?”
My advice? Ask her to carry out her phone calls (and her life) outside from now on. JK. Just the phone calls.
The Werewolf: This guy is probably really nice. But one night, something strange happened. In the glow of the full (or any) moon, and perhaps a bit too much alcohol, he suddenly transformed into a swaggering frat boy with the ego of Kanye West. With a can of Natty Light in hand, he can be found in the basement of frat houses raving with the best of them. This wouldn’t be problem, except for the fact that his beer-stained clothes are leaving a smell that leaves your RA and the coroner suspicious, and the nights. Oh my lord, the nights. This furry creature of the night has been known to track in mud from his hunts for girls at 3 a.m. He has also been known to drag in 20 friends at a time, drunkenly oblivious to your sleeping, crazed for some chicken tenders from Rosie’s. If you’re bothered by the werewolf’s nocturnal habits, talk to your RA about rooming with someone else.
The Mummy: You didn’t think it was possible to sleep this much. You start to wonder if maybe you should call someone. Occasionally you creep close enough to make sure he’s still breathing, but then scramble over for fear of him waking up. He’s fascinating. Doesn’t this guy have a life to attend to? Does he wake up at night and walk around campus? It’s hard to tell, because he’s in the same position he was when you arrived for the semester. You tried at first not to wake up him, but lately you’ve been testing the waters and dropping full 25-pound books on the ground. One time you thought he said something, but turns out he was just talking in his sleep. You’re not even sure when he eats or attends class. What is this kid’s major? Because sign me up!
The Vampire: The vampire is by far the worst kind of roommate. Little by little, she will try to suck all the positivity out of your life. It starts with a casual sexile that turns into three hours. Her boyfriend is always over and all they do is sexually stare into each other’s eyes—did I just describe “Twilight”? Then, she might start to passive-aggressively move everything onto her side. She sure knows how to flip on a light switch at four in the morning (the only time she ever really seems to be active). She feeds on the insecurities of other girls, commenting on your “cute West Virginia accent.” Stuff a Frappuccino in it, Tiffany. I know; it’s not cute. Her talents include complaining about anything and everything, from Kent State construction (validated), to the lack of pumpkin spice in her latte (still validated), to how much she’s chubbed out since the year started (not validated- all you eat is kale, Tiffany). Unlike the Banshee, she has a generally negative attitude and can be spotted by key phrases such as:
- “I don’t care.”
- “That sounds lame.”
- “Can I have the room tonight?”
The vampire is a dangerous creature that will slink in the shadows of your room with the blinds closed watching reruns of Friends (gross) and crying about how much she misses her family (extra gross). Find another roommate and open those blinds girl, let that vampire see what she’s missing.
So if you’re unfortunate enough to have one of these monsters as roommates, grab a stake and a silver bullet (lol JK plz don’t). Contact your RHD or RA instead because they are trained to deal with these horrible monsters. Or, if they can mumble out a response, try to talk it out with them. Maybe under all that fur and misery, they’re actually nice people. See, I said maybe so you can’t tell me I ruined your life if it all goes wrong. Good luck!