An effigy continued

My Saturday night, like any other person my age (hint of sarcasm), consists of watching the Muppets Wizard of Oz followed by cleaning my apartment at 11:00 at night. Absolutely pathetic! It also consisted of some "childish behavior." Go to "the D's" website here to check out what the background is for this story. Seriously, you have to read it first, then come back here and read my follow-up of what transpires as a result of our "childishness." My story won't make sense till you read his. So...read it!

While peacefully in my slumber, I was awoken by the sound of two hot tempered, not very happy individuals. One my roommate (the self proclaimed “mature” one), the other his girlfriend. (note: Roommate from here on out will refer to the "bad" roommate, not Darrell) I will try to recount the story to the best of my recollection, however, the flow of conversation may not be fully there as 1) I don’t remember everything (having just woken up) and 2) there was a lot of repeating going on. The first words I heard of their conversation, while lying a little less peacefully in my bed, was this conversation:

Roommate: They’re just idiots! I’m sick of living with idiots!

Girlfriend: Do I just have a bad sense of humor? (referring to the clothes on the rafters)
Roommate: No, they do. (Even though the answer to the question should have been a resounding YES)
Girlfriend: Even my girlfriends who know me really well wouldn’t have done this to me. (I wanted to scream out that’s because your girlfriends know you well enough to know you would overreact and carry on like a baby...I resisted [pat myself on the back])

Girlfriend: A part of me feels really bad. I do leave my stuff around. I’m sorry (an apology to the roommate for seemingly causing this huge ordeal).
Roommate: It's not a problem deat. It’s a pigsty here, it was when I moved in. It’s like pigs complaining about dirt.

They slam the door, they leave the house, and then speed off in his car, screeching tires and all (big man). Two minutes later, I get a not so friendly knock on my door asking me if I can talk. I put a shirt on (so that they aren’t too intimidated by my HUGE muscles) and open the door. I find, in front of me, a very mild looking man, but a face that looked like it was about to blow fire from its nose. It was my roommate! I fought the urge to say, “how are you this fine and lovely day?” with a quaint smile. Mostly, I had all my lightheartedness zapped out of me when I opened that door finding my roommate leaning on my door frame, looking down at me from the kitchen about 1-2 feet from my face. My initial internal reaction? “Boy, you best be stepping away from my door and my face before I move you myself.” Luckily it didn’t come to that. He was upset, especially as his girlfriend was crying (yes she was sobbing for a good 15 minutes), so I decided to give him some leniency for being upset. After all, any guy would feel the need to protect and stand up for his girlfriend, right? Right. A conversation ensued.

Roommate: What was that all about? (Pointing to the rope that once held the infamous bathing suit) (At this point both him and his girlfriend asked me about 10 questions and kept talking).

Matt: OK. You asked a question, but you’re still talking. Do you want me to explain something or listen to you blow off steam?

Girlfriend: You know, you don’t have to say it like that!

Matt: (I roll my eyes and laugh and then carry on the conversation)

Roommate: Matt...this place is a pig sty. It has been ever since I moved in. (I noticed how he cut out his earlier phrase when he wasn't talking directly to me...you know the one about me being like a pig complaining about dirt).

Matt: Do you live here too? Then you can clean some of it up yourself too! It will get messy having three people live in one house.

Roommate: C'mon! I have cleaned the bathroom (this happened once in the six months he's lived here), I have done the dishes (...yikes, dude, seriously don't start with this...i've cleaned up after you like your mom, so don't...), I'm the only one to take out the trash (holy crap, I'm going to lose it), I had to buy a shower curtain because our other one got too dirty (oh, poor baby...welcome to life, now get over it).

(At this time I go on to tell him all of the things I do arond the house, much like two 5 year olds arguing over who's daddy is stronger...by the way, mine is. At this point I am almost yelling, but then I realized something. Explaining this to him won't do any good. It's like trying to explain stuff to the people I work with. This guy is really so delusional he probably thinks he really is the only one to do anything around here.)

Girlfriend: If you had a problem, you should have said something to me. I know I’m over here a lot, but if you had a problem…why didn’t you say something?

Matt: OK. First, I told your boyfriend that your clothes were on the couch couple of times.

Roommate: You never asked for me to pick it up or do something about it.

Matt: I didn’t think I had to connect the dots for you! She’s not my girlfriend and not my guest, she’s yours. Secondly, why didn’t I say something? Because the fact that your clothes were out there on the couch honestly wasn’t really a big deal to me. It didn’t serve as a huge annoyance, something that NEEDED to be talked about. When we put your bathing suit up, it was meant as a joke. Not a message that we hate you or that we want you out of our house (as she had previously alluded to). It was just a joke.

Girlfriend: How else am I supposed to take it? My clothes are up there. It sure seemed like you were trying to resemble me, hung up by rope on the rafters. It’s like an effigy. How am I supposed to feel safe here?

(You've got to be kidding me)

Matt: That wasn’t our intention. To be honest with you, we both thought it looked more like a stuffed turkey than anything else. (on second thought, maybe it was an effigy…hahaha…I’m a jerk).

Girlfriend: Do you feel bad at all about what you guys did? The look on your face makes it seem like you don’t even care!

Matt: First, you just woke me up, this is how I look in the morning. Secondly, no, I don’t feel bad. It was meant as a joke, not as a message. I’m sorry you are so hurt by all this, but that’s about it.

Roommate: Well, Matt. I’m going to get going. I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to call the landlord and give him the month’s notice. I’m moving out.

Matt: OK (said with a sly grin)

So, one of my changes that I alluded to in other blogs will soon come to pass...my living situation...so thank you roommate numero douche for all your help!