True, she pays her half of the rent on time, and in most cases that's a good thing. With this she-harpy, it ends up being a curse, because in her brilliant fucking mind, paying her half of the rent means that she has done everything that is required of her to be a good roommate. So if she empties the dishwasher by taking the bottom tray and dumping it blind into one of our cupboards, if she cleans up her dinner by throwing a plate still full of food from her seat to the kitchen (rebounding her marinara off the wall to make the trash can), if she reimburses me $10 for my sixty dollar mirror that was broken while she was hiding it in her room- well, that's really above and beyond the call of duty, isn't it? She does have a point, though– I never asked her to open up the windows while she was smoking pot in the living room 10 hours before our landlord was coming over to inspect the apartment, so really any problems with the apartment must be my fault.
Which brings me to our facilities. You see, when we first moved in, we discussed showering times. I started at 8:00 am, and she at 7:30. So, it made sense that she used the shower first. "When will you be showering?" I asked. "6:00," she replies. And, to be fair, my question wasn't specific enough. So when I asked her why she didn't take a shower until 6:45, she pointed out that 6:00 was the time for her evening shower. Her morning shower isn't until 6:30. You see, when you have that degree of a dirty, dirty cunt, you need to shower twice a day to prevent neighborhood dogs from confusing you for dying prey. (Slight side note on dogs: she borrows her boyfriend's dog to stay with us from time to time, because our neighborhood is 20% black, and she needs portection from our criminal neighbors. And, as she points out, "niggers hate dogs." Don't get me started on what she thinks of Arabs (pronounced: Eh-Rabb))
Here's my point: When she doesn't get out of the shower until 7:15, I don't have time to shower before work. Her, she just goes ahead and shows up late. If she really wants to take her time, she just takes her hair iron with her and does her hair at her desk. Not an option for me, because I actually have a job that involves doing things. So, I start getting up and taking a shower at 6:00 (a.m.), so I can be out of her way and on with my day.
Needless to say, she was furious. If I'm in the shower at 6:00 am, then I'm making all sorts of loud noises that keep her from getting her beauty rest: brushing my teeth, opening and closing doors... she went off for ten minutes about me not understanding "common courtesy" since I was eating breakfast out of a ceramic bowl (which causes the fork to clink). "Maybe I should just start getting up earlier," she says, "see how you like it. See what you think about someone bothering you when you're waking up in the morning."
Which is the number one thing that distinguishes her in the upper eschilon of douchebaggery (which is not to suggest that she's clean): she really, really believed that I had no idea what it must be like, having someone else in my apartment when I'm trying to live my life. Despite her paying half the rent, I insist on continuing to live there.
So, the bathroom wars begin. The next morning, when my alarm goes off at 5:30, she jumps out of bed and runs into the bathroom and turns on the shower. Fine, I figure, I can sleep in. So, I go back to sleep and get up half an hour later. She's still in the bathroom. So I make breakfast, read the paper. She finally opens the bathroom door and scoffs, "are you still here?" "Yep," I reply. She's very angry about this, of course. "I don't know why you get up earlier now," she yells from her room as she's getting ready. "You just get in the way." I go in and take a shower. Robert 1, Shitbag 0.
After a few days, she goes back to sleeping in. So I take my showers a little later, so that I don't wake her up. Needless to say, she's furious. You see, if I take my showers later, she has to wait for me to get out of the bathroom so she can get ready. She again complains that I'm so self-centered, I don't even realize that I'm being an inconvenience to others. How would I feel, she asks, if I had to wait for the bathroom? I couldn't imagine. But it's 6:15 now, and I'm enjoying a nice omelette and egg nog, while she's in a fit over the injustices of the world. Robert 2, Shitbag 0.
So, I start getting up earlier again. We discuss bathroom times, and I say, "when do you want me out of the bathroom?" "6:15," she decides. Perfect. So, I take a shower at 5:30 and I'm out by 6:00. Needless to say, she's furious. I'm still in the apartment, you see, when she gets up. Trolling around, eating breakfast, possibly ironing a shirt... which prevents her from being able to leave the shower running as she goes back and forth between her room and the bathroom, doing God Knows What. On top of which, when she goes in to microwave her coffee, I'm in the kitchen, making eggs (which doesn't get in her way but does involve me, well, existing nearby). If I'm going to get up before 7:20, she reasons, I should be out of the apartment completely by 6:15 so she can use the place herself.
I'm not really willing to negotiate that kind of an arrangement, so I tell her that I'll be out of the bathroom by 6:15 but this is just part of being a roommate. So, the next morning, I am up at 5:30, getting ready to go take a shower, when she walks out of her bedroom with cold coffee and wearing a towel. I start walking into the bathroom, and she says, "I'm going to take a shower, actually..." Now, this was truly a crossroads for me. If I were dealing with a rational person, or even an idiot, this is where I would point out that I needed to take a shower and get to work. I don't like starting the day with a fight, though, so I actually let her do it. Yep. Dumb.
She goes in and strikes up a bath. Okay, I figure, I'll just make breakfast and get ready. 40 mintues later—around 6:30—she gets out and empties the tub. The door remains locked as she gets out and dries off. Then, at 6:35, she takes her shower.
You see, she didn't have time to take her shower the previous night, so instead she got up early to take both of them in the morning. Had I known that, I would have gone in ahead of her and just let her be furious about it. But I didn't. She won that round. But the war continues on— so far, Robert 2, Shitbag 1. I'll keep you posted.
No comments:
Post a Comment