Right after college, I moved to a town that was just across the river from the Big City.
I was hoping for a writing or publishing job. Most of the people I knew from college were scattered around the country, and I was fairly lonely. I didn’t have anyone to apartment-hunt with, but I couldn’t afford to rent my own place.
So I decided I would find a two-bedroom apartment myself, and then I’d find a suitable roommate through the local classifieds. That way, I'd be picking the person. I had enough money for the full deposit and the first month’s rent, so that was fine.
I found a great big two-bedroom apartment and put an ad in the local classifieds looking for a “young professional” female roommate in her twenties or thirties who was employed full-time and didn’t smoke.
In the years following that, I went through six or seven roommates, all of whom were -- like me -- moving near The Big City and needed a cheap place before they made enough money to actually live IN the City.
With the exception of one roommate, none of the others really became “friends” with me. I guess that’s because I went out of my way to find roommates who wouldn’t be around all the time. If a girl was going to spend most of her time at her boyfriend’s place and wouldn’t be in my place a lot, THAT was who I wanted as a roommate. Gave me more privacy.
The one roomie I became friends with was someone who coincidentally had graduated from Penn a year after me with an English degree, but I’d never met her while at Penn. Coincidentally, she just happened to come see my room for rent. She also knew some of the people I did. I’m still friends with her today. (She occasionally reads this blog, so if you’re reading this, hi, A!)
Anyway, that’s it for lasting friendships with roomies. Trying to find one who’d become a friend didn’t seem that important, because there was really no way of telling, so all I wanted was someone responsible who wouldn’t stiff me on the rent.
So I decided I would find a two-bedroom apartment myself, and then I’d find a suitable roommate through the local classifieds. That way, I'd be picking the person. I had enough money for the full deposit and the first month’s rent, so that was fine.
I found a great big two-bedroom apartment and put an ad in the local classifieds looking for a “young professional” female roommate in her twenties or thirties who was employed full-time and didn’t smoke.
In the years following that, I went through six or seven roommates, all of whom were -- like me -- moving near The Big City and needed a cheap place before they made enough money to actually live IN the City.
With the exception of one roommate, none of the others really became “friends” with me. I guess that’s because I went out of my way to find roommates who wouldn’t be around all the time. If a girl was going to spend most of her time at her boyfriend’s place and wouldn’t be in my place a lot, THAT was who I wanted as a roommate. Gave me more privacy.
The one roomie I became friends with was someone who coincidentally had graduated from Penn a year after me with an English degree, but I’d never met her while at Penn. Coincidentally, she just happened to come see my room for rent. She also knew some of the people I did. I’m still friends with her today. (She occasionally reads this blog, so if you’re reading this, hi, A!)
Anyway, that’s it for lasting friendships with roomies. Trying to find one who’d become a friend didn’t seem that important, because there was really no way of telling, so all I wanted was someone responsible who wouldn’t stiff me on the rent.
Here are some of the memorable ones.
Roommate I, “Karen”
The first roomate I got was a girl named Karen who was my age, 22, and was in some ways even more innocent than I was.
Karen had gone to a small Catholic college in upstate NY. She also had a job up there until she got transferred down to The City. Her college boyfriend still lived up there. They’d never had sex, but they had slept in the same bed. They were waiting for marriage to “do it.” She also had never gone to a gynecologist appointment, and was making one in our town for the first time, and she asked me for advice. She wanted to know if the checkup hurt a lot.
Wow – at least I had seen a gyno before. I was very innocent for 22, and I was always surprised to meet someone who was more innocent than I was. It pleased me to know I wasn’t alone.
Anyway, she made the gyno appointment with the doctor I recommended down the street. But she came home and told me that after waiting for an hour in the gyno’s office, she had chickened out and left.
Eventually, one of Karen’s friends from Albany, Kate, moved down here. Kate’s college boyfriend, “Dave,” had recently told her that even though he wanted to marry her someday, he wanted to temporarily date a few other people before settling down. She was distraught. She broke up with him and got a job transfer down to The City. She needed to get away from the situation for a while, and from Dave.
Karen and Kate wanted to get an apartment together. They invited me to live with them. But I decided to stay in my own place. Once something is working, no sense giving it up.
They invited me to see their new place one time. It was further downtown and pretty nice -- cozy, with lots of throw pillows and rugs and soft lighting. I hung out with them once or twice, but that was it. I don’t know where they are today.
Roommate II, “Jeanine”
“Jeanine” was also around my age. She lived in Florida and moved up to this area because of a job transfer. She also had just broken up with her boyfriend in Florida, who, she said, had a slight drug problem, even though “Jeanine” was pretty straight-laced herself.
Jeanine had never lived up north before, nor had she spent any time here. It snowed one time, and she looked outside our window at her car. She actually didn’t know how you were supposed to get the snow off. Waving her hands in the air frantically, she looked at me and said, “What do you do?!?” I had an ice scraper and I showed her how to use it.
The other thing I remember about Jeanine was that she told me a funny story about her first night in college. She said that her first night, her roommate hadn’t moved in yet, so she was alone in the room. She saw a huge roach in the room and then it ran somewhere. That night, she went to sleep alone on the top bunk. While she was sleeping, she had a dream that the roach was on top of her. She fell out of the bunk, onto the floor. On the floor, she started crying and was like, “I wanna go hooooooome.”
Anyway, Jeanine didn't last long up here near The Big City. After maybe three or four months up here, she decided she liked Florida better, and moved back.
Roommate III, “Melanie”
I actually wrote a whole essay about Melanie once. She is memorable because of the sheer number and variety of boyfriends she had while she lived here. There’s a reason for it, too, which I’ll explain later.
When she came to look at my apartment, she was just in town for a few days visiting from Colorado -- but in a month, she would be starting a new job in The Big City, so she needed to find a place. She’d seen a lot of places so far that hadn’t worked out. Mine was the last place she looked at, so she was very eager to get it squared away before heading back to Colorado.
Anyway, she made the gyno appointment with the doctor I recommended down the street. But she came home and told me that after waiting for an hour in the gyno’s office, she had chickened out and left.
Eventually, one of Karen’s friends from Albany, Kate, moved down here. Kate’s college boyfriend, “Dave,” had recently told her that even though he wanted to marry her someday, he wanted to temporarily date a few other people before settling down. She was distraught. She broke up with him and got a job transfer down to The City. She needed to get away from the situation for a while, and from Dave.
Karen and Kate wanted to get an apartment together. They invited me to live with them. But I decided to stay in my own place. Once something is working, no sense giving it up.
They invited me to see their new place one time. It was further downtown and pretty nice -- cozy, with lots of throw pillows and rugs and soft lighting. I hung out with them once or twice, but that was it. I don’t know where they are today.
Roommate II, “Jeanine”
“Jeanine” was also around my age. She lived in Florida and moved up to this area because of a job transfer. She also had just broken up with her boyfriend in Florida, who, she said, had a slight drug problem, even though “Jeanine” was pretty straight-laced herself.
Jeanine had never lived up north before, nor had she spent any time here. It snowed one time, and she looked outside our window at her car. She actually didn’t know how you were supposed to get the snow off. Waving her hands in the air frantically, she looked at me and said, “What do you do?!?” I had an ice scraper and I showed her how to use it.
The other thing I remember about Jeanine was that she told me a funny story about her first night in college. She said that her first night, her roommate hadn’t moved in yet, so she was alone in the room. She saw a huge roach in the room and then it ran somewhere. That night, she went to sleep alone on the top bunk. While she was sleeping, she had a dream that the roach was on top of her. She fell out of the bunk, onto the floor. On the floor, she started crying and was like, “I wanna go hooooooome.”
Anyway, Jeanine didn't last long up here near The Big City. After maybe three or four months up here, she decided she liked Florida better, and moved back.
Roommate III, “Melanie”
I actually wrote a whole essay about Melanie once. She is memorable because of the sheer number and variety of boyfriends she had while she lived here. There’s a reason for it, too, which I’ll explain later.
When she came to look at my apartment, she was just in town for a few days visiting from Colorado -- but in a month, she would be starting a new job in The Big City, so she needed to find a place. She’d seen a lot of places so far that hadn’t worked out. Mine was the last place she looked at, so she was very eager to get it squared away before heading back to Colorado.
She said she really liked me. She said I reminded her of her best friend back home in Colorado. She also said she'd write me a check then and there if I accepted her as a roommate.
So I agreed to let her have the room, and she wrote me a check. A month later, she moved in.
Melanie took the city by storm. She knew one girl here, Tiffany, a girl with a blond bob. Tiffany went out to bars in The Big City every single night. Melanie went with her every night, even though Melanie kept telling me how tiring it was and how she really wanted to spend a night in
A few times, Melanie told me that on an upcoming weekend, she was going to stay inside for the whole weekend and lay low and finally get some rest. Then…her phone would ring, it would be Tiffany, and she’d disappear. I think she was afraid of missing out on something. Or…someone.
A lot of guys liked Melanie. She was attractive but not intimidatingly. She developed a pattern: She’d meet a guy, go on three dates with him, and on the third date, she wouldn’t come home that night.
But soon after, she’d break up with the guy for one reason or another, and move on to the next.
Melanie wasn’t a slut. She actually just wanted to find a serious boyfriend, so she looked around a lot. But she’d get scared if things got too serious too soon. On the third date, she’d sleep with them, and then usually, it didn’t last much longer than that.
One guy she dated, Patrick, was a tall blonde bartender. She decided he was too polite and serious for her. There was also “Sami,” a Mexican guy who didn’t speak any English. She didn’t speak any Spanish. But she told me they communicated by pantomiming.
There was a reason for all this dating. Back in Colorado, she’d dated one guy for all four years of college. They assumed they’d get married someday. Everyone told her that she had no way of knowing if he was “The One” if he was the only person in her life that she dated.
A lot of guys liked Melanie. She was attractive but not intimidatingly. She developed a pattern: She’d meet a guy, go on three dates with him, and on the third date, she wouldn’t come home that night.
But soon after, she’d break up with the guy for one reason or another, and move on to the next.
Melanie wasn’t a slut. She actually just wanted to find a serious boyfriend, so she looked around a lot. But she’d get scared if things got too serious too soon. On the third date, she’d sleep with them, and then usually, it didn’t last much longer than that.
One guy she dated, Patrick, was a tall blonde bartender. She decided he was too polite and serious for her. There was also “Sami,” a Mexican guy who didn’t speak any English. She didn’t speak any Spanish. But she told me they communicated by pantomiming.
There was a reason for all this dating. Back in Colorado, she’d dated one guy for all four years of college. They assumed they’d get married someday. Everyone told her that she had no way of knowing if he was “The One” if he was the only person in her life that she dated.
She decided that maybe all these people were right. So she broke up with him.
A few months later, she realized she’d made a mistake. But by then, he was dating someone else. Eventually he got engaged to his new girlfriend.
So now, Melanie was alone. She and I were both 24 when we lived together, and she’d tell me how she would see guys in the street who were our age, and they’d be toting children around. She was worried that everyone else was passing her by.
A few months later, she realized she’d made a mistake. But by then, he was dating someone else. Eventually he got engaged to his new girlfriend.
So now, Melanie was alone. She and I were both 24 when we lived together, and she’d tell me how she would see guys in the street who were our age, and they’d be toting children around. She was worried that everyone else was passing her by.
Of course, 24 seems so young now, but I think that no matter what age you are, you always fear that you’re going to miss out on meeting the person you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with if you don’t hurry up. Whatever age you are, you usually think it's the right time. It always seems like everyone around you is coupling up. Heck, I felt that way in college.
I certainly felt that way at 24, even though I can look back and see how young that was, and how there were still plenty of single people in their late 20s and 30s. But it seemed at the time that everyone was finding someone.
Also keep in mind that in the early 1990s, when I graduated, no one had internet access, so most of our lives were still tied to the people we knew in college. That was still our only social network, unless you still talked to people from high school. School was the place where we’d gotten to know people deeply. Now we were forced to look for new friends, and people to date, in the big city. But how to really get to know someone?
One day, I heard Melanie on the phone with one of her brothers. She was saying that the night before, she had had a dream about her college boyfriend. It was very realistic. She said that it seemed as though he was right there next to her. “I could see him; I could smell him,” she said.
After she got off the phone with her brother, she decided she’d call the guy up just to find out if he was still engaged. She instead got ahold of his sister, who said that he was. The wedding was to be in October, just a few months from then.
“Well, just tell him that Melanie called to wish him luck,” she said. Then she hung up the phone and cried.
Was it too late for Melanie to find love? Had she given up her only chance?
Like many of my roommates, eventually Melanie moved to the Big City. She moved into an apartment with Tiffany, of course. A few years ago, I Googled her, and she is married some German guy and lives in Germany now.
Roommate IV, “Pam”
Pam was a stewardess. They are good roommates because every other day, they are gone for the day and night. Sometimes they are gone for longer. Of course, there are also days in which they are home for 24 hours straight, but I was willing to deal with the tradeoff.
Pam was from Tennessee. There are two main things I remember about her. One is that her brother and father hunted, and one time she brought back venison and kept it in the freezer. She made a stew. I had some, and I just tasted like beef stew.
The other thing was that the movie “Eight Mile” came out, and she asked me if I wanted to go see it with her and her friends. I was surprised, because she was a tiny Southern girl and I didn’t think she’d be into Eminem, but she said she found him funny.
When we all went to the movie, she had to wear her Continental uniform because she had to go to work right after. Her friends kept teasing her about it. One guy asked her, “Hey, Pam, where are the exits?” She responded, “The nearest one may be right behind you.”
Eventually Continental laid a bunch of people off, including Pam. She went home to Tennessee. She had also been “talking to” a friend of her brother's who lived down there, so she was forseeing a possible relationship.
Other roomies
The other ones were not very memorable. I should note that I never really had a problem with roommates. I figured out how to screen them well. Making sure they had a full-time job was key. Also, one time, a 19-year-old showed up with her parents to look at my place. She was definitely a no-no. Her mom kept mentioning all the friends she could have over.
What I think shows up in a lot of these stories is this: Most of them moved on, and I stayed here.
Was it too late for Melanie to find love? Had she given up her only chance?
Like many of my roommates, eventually Melanie moved to the Big City. She moved into an apartment with Tiffany, of course. A few years ago, I Googled her, and she is married some German guy and lives in Germany now.
Roommate IV, “Pam”
Pam was a stewardess. They are good roommates because every other day, they are gone for the day and night. Sometimes they are gone for longer. Of course, there are also days in which they are home for 24 hours straight, but I was willing to deal with the tradeoff.
Pam was from Tennessee. There are two main things I remember about her. One is that her brother and father hunted, and one time she brought back venison and kept it in the freezer. She made a stew. I had some, and I just tasted like beef stew.
The other thing was that the movie “Eight Mile” came out, and she asked me if I wanted to go see it with her and her friends. I was surprised, because she was a tiny Southern girl and I didn’t think she’d be into Eminem, but she said she found him funny.
When we all went to the movie, she had to wear her Continental uniform because she had to go to work right after. Her friends kept teasing her about it. One guy asked her, “Hey, Pam, where are the exits?” She responded, “The nearest one may be right behind you.”
Eventually Continental laid a bunch of people off, including Pam. She went home to Tennessee. She had also been “talking to” a friend of her brother's who lived down there, so she was forseeing a possible relationship.
Other roomies
The other ones were not very memorable. I should note that I never really had a problem with roommates. I figured out how to screen them well. Making sure they had a full-time job was key. Also, one time, a 19-year-old showed up with her parents to look at my place. She was definitely a no-no. Her mom kept mentioning all the friends she could have over.
What I think shows up in a lot of these stories is this: Most of them moved on, and I stayed here.
They generally left because of one of two reasons: They’d either saved enough money to finally live in The Big City, or they moved in with their boyfriend/got engaged.
And yes, I stayed in my quaint apartment. I never saw the need to live right in The City. The City is expensive, offered less space, and well, to paraphrase Billy Joel, moving out isn’t necessarily moving up. It’s a great place to visit, but I had no need to live there. I had a good apartment I was comfortable in. Why mess that up?
And yes, I stayed in my quaint apartment. I never saw the need to live right in The City. The City is expensive, offered less space, and well, to paraphrase Billy Joel, moving out isn’t necessarily moving up. It’s a great place to visit, but I had no need to live there. I had a good apartment I was comfortable in. Why mess that up?
I was fairly alone in my twenties. My college friends lived elsewhere, there was no internet to meet people, and I wasn't into the bar scene. My co-workers were in their forties and married. So I guess if I'd moved with Karen and Kate to a three-bedroom, I might have become closer with them and gotten out more. But I don't know, I just didn't want to take risks.
Ending the streak
My string of roommates ended when I finally sold a novel. Rather than spend the money on a car or a vacation or something else, I decided to pay the whole rent from now on, and stop having roommates.
Ending the streak
My string of roommates ended when I finally sold a novel. Rather than spend the money on a car or a vacation or something else, I decided to pay the whole rent from now on, and stop having roommates.
It would increase my happiness a hundred-fold if I could walk across the apartment any time I wanted, listen to the radio late at night, or waltz around in my underwear.
Several years later, I did finally get engaged.
Several years later, I did finally get engaged.
My hubby is my roommate now, and he’s by far the best roommate I've had. And...definitely the cutest.
No comments:
Post a Comment