I was recently slumming over at Write Procrastinator's blog, joyfully cringing as I read about his experience with some of life's more awkward moments.
Write's heartwarming tale reminds me that I need to take a poll of my Gentle Readers. The following actually happened to me and my friend Martha, and it's imperative I find out which of us should be more offended.
My senior year in college I studied abroad during the first semester, so there was a mad scramble to find housing for my spring semester back on campus. I ended up in a dorm room in a cool old building on campus widely known for its ample supply of drugs. Lucky me, I wound up as a roommate to one of the dorm's dealers. On one level it was convenient, but on many other levels it was highly annoying; visitors traipsing through at all hours and that sort of thing.
Although I found him repugnant, my friend Martha was one of those gals who dug the bad boys, so of course she took an immediate shine to my roommate, Roland. At first Roland and I didn't have much to say to each other, so he didn't really know who my friends were. Which was nice for Martha because it enabled her to stalk him.
One day Roland came back to the room and said "I swear to God there is a woman following me around campus" and proceeded to share an elaborate tale of how he took all these winding paths to see if she would lose him - and she didn't. A few days after that, Martha dropped by our room for a few minutes when we were both there, and when she left Roland said "my God, that's my stalker! You know her? She's hot!"
Well, I thought, this will be very interesting.
We lived together in that dorm room for the next five months, and while I couldn't stand a lot of his drugged out friends, he and I actually got on quite nicely. Even started to hang out a little bit toward the middle of the semester, at which point I decided to facilitate relations between him and Martha.
One night I organized an outing to the town's only bar and made sure that both Roland and Martha would be there. I kept finding ways to include the two of them in any conversation I was having, and by the end of the night they were getting quite chummy. I made plans to sleep over in another friend's room.
The two of them carried on in some fashion for a month or so, although it never grew serious. They were just having a good time, an endeavor I wholeheartedly supported.
********************
Flash forward. About a year later, Martha and I had graduated and were both living in Minneapolis where we still hung out together a lot. One day she and I made a trek down to St. Olaf for some reason that I can't remember right now.
We were walking around campus, and decided to stop in the student center for a refreshment. Lo and behold, who did we run into but our old friend Roland!
"Roland!" we both exclaimed. "Hi!!! How have you been? What's going on? Are you graduating soon?!!!"
"Hi..." he said rather tentatively. "Yeah.... things are going fine.....how are you guys, um......?"
Martha and I looked at each other, looked at Roland and then back at each other.
He didn't remember us. Neither one of us. He lived with me for five months, and fucked her for a month, yet had no idea who we were.
"Roland, remember me? Your old roommate?" I said.
"OOOOOH, yeah, that's right, in Ytterboe, right? I know I know your name....."
"Tom."
"YEAH, TOM! Hey bud, how's it going? What have you been up to?"
"And I'm sure you remember this lovely young woman," I said. I wasn't going to make this easy for him.
"Oh yeah, it's.... it's... M......M something......"
"Martha," she replied, flatly.
"Yeah, Martha baby! How you doing, girl?"
"Fine. It was very nice to run into you. Tom, we do need to get back on the road now."
"Ok. See you Roland." We turned to leave.
Martha was fuming. While I was not fuming, I did find it a bit insulting that I slept in a bed next to him and talked to him every day for five months straight, only one year prior - and he had no idea who I was.
Martha thought that was nothing compared to the fact that she had sex with him at least a dozen times and he had no idea who she was.
We then debated at length as to who should be more offended. Most of my girlfriends started off saying she should be, but when I laid out the facts (five months of day-to-day vs. one month of passion) they were on the fence.
So the question is now put to you, Gentle Readers. Who should be more offended here? CP or Martha?
22 comments:
This is a prime example of why kids should just say no to drugs.
I think you both have grounds for being equally offended. I mean, as a woman, I would be highly offended if I shagged somebody for a month and they didn't even remember my first name.
On the other hand, you live with someone, and interact with them on a daily basis for a semester, you'd like to think they would remember who the hell you are.
I dunno. I guess I'm on the fence too.
Could the two of you have been that boring in college? Or was he better at being a stoner than a dealer? I'd say you both have a case. Me? Not so much.
Hmmm. I think that you are the more offended party. I mean, it was only a month of intoxicated screwing for "Martha". He saw you in the daytime.
Your chart colors are punchier so now I'm offended. But I'd be more upset if I were you, CP. He knew you first and saw you every day. He should have at least come close and said "Tim".
I think you should be more offended.
I know I'm a girl & I should probably feel oherwise...but if their relationship was only sex it's very likely he (being a male and all) ... (and a stoner) wouldn't remember her if they had been together for twice that amount of time!
I can remember the faces of people I've roomed way back in '84 and '85. That's with the handicap of a lot of herbiage and alcohol ingested in '86 through '87.
I'm with Grizz, the Medallin Cartel and NWA espoused that "one should never get high on their own supply." We're talking fried on a large scale.
That or acid and PCP thrown into the mix. He probably had all of three brain cells left by then and they were fighting each other.
I think she should be offended just a little more than you by the slightest margin. This isn't the first time I've seen that happen, I'm just surprised that they went out with each other for that many months, and he didn't remember her.
I think you get to be more offended, as per Mindy's argument. I also had a dealer roomie for awhile. I used to hate it when strange people would knock on my window at 3 in the morning looking for drugs. Sad thing is, after awhile you get used to it.
I have no iea of the name of one of my roommates from SF. She was tall and had short brown hair, but I have no clue what her name was. On the other hand, I do remember the name of everyone that I have slept with, even if it was a one time thing.
Not that that really has anything to do with your question, but I had to think about it for a minute or two.
Obviously Roland is the one who should be offended, because you clearly put him on the spot, which is rude.
O you of course. I mean come on, you probably sat awake at night watching him sleep
Thanks Grizz. Looks like not a lot has changed.
Boring is my middle name, Dale. You should know that by now.
Are you playing me Min or do you mean it?
Funny Chelene, I've been called "Tim" and "Todd" and usually end up feeling more insulted by that.
Oh CP, it's all YOU that should be insulted. Boys should remember their roommates but not necessarily thier lays.
Sounds cold, but that's just the way of the college world.
Thanks Jin! I knew you'd see the side of reason.
That's another strike against me, Write. And don't think I'm not keeping score.
I put an end to the 3 am knock pretty quickly, Ten-S. Funny thing is he wouldn't let us lock our door when we were out for the first month that I lived with him because he had lost his key. St. Olaf must be the only place on earth where a stash is safe even in an unlocked room.
Was this one of the roommates during the Leeanne phase, Lu? And you're correct; Miss Manners would rip me a new one if she knew what I'd done.
Funny Freelance, but hardly. I didn't like to look at him much at all. The glazed over look in his eyes upset me.
Thanks Keith. I would have to agree!
Yes, it was during the LeAne days. She lived in the big room before Cathy moved in, but after the guy, what was his name? Crap, I don't remember his name either, although his last name was Miller, and his brother's name was Grant. His borther is the one who got peed on during Halloween in the Castro.
Yeah Lu, but this was all 14 years ago. I bet you remembered just one year after living with them.
If you guys could have reacted quickly and were in tune with each other (granted, I would have behaved exactly the same way), you could have significantly fucked with Roland's mind so neither of you would have felt insulted by his poor memory.
Since it's too late to deal Roland a mindfuck, you'll have to pick some poor sap that has *no* prior history to mess with.
Just don't make it me, ok?
I don't know who should be more offended, but I think that the old dealer's motto "Don't get high on your own supply" may be the most important thing. He was so baked, that only a year later he could hardly remember the two of you? That's pathetic.
What kind of mind fuck did you have in mind, Splotch? Give me some ideas.
There were many pathetic elements to Roland, Johnny Yen. His fried brain was only the beginning.
I think you should be more offended, CP. I still remember the name of every person I've lived with.
Thanks for remaining a voice of reason in the world of CPW comments, Grant Miller.
well.... you should be more offended. you always remember your college roomies. those you fucked or sucked, eh, not so much. a month is a long one-night stand.
Um, guilty.
I know I've forgoten most of the names of my old girlfriends, but could pick them out of a nude lineup.
I have NEVER forgoten the names of all my dealers, and I always send them cards on their birthdays.
Flannery, remind me again when your birthday is.
Doc
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