Monday, December 8, 2008

A Tale of Assholes and Princesses

So. Like most 20-year-olds living in a college town, I have a room mate. This is not unheard of. Also in the living arrangement is my boyfriend. Also not unheard of.

So, in this two bedroom apartment we call home, there is Me, Redhead Boyfriend, Roommate, and his girlfriend, the Princess. The Princess is also pregnant, and due just two days before I am.

Come the end of May, no one will be sleeping. Ever.

Here in the past week or so, the Roommate seems to have a problem with my attitude. Says it needs to change. I told him there is no changing it, it’s part of who I am, and he should have realized that. Then I realized where said problem with my attitude comes from.

He owes me five bucks and refuses to pay on it. And I got the feeling he had no intention of paying me back. So I called him out on it.

Now, I know it seems petty, just being five bucks. We were out at the local hangout drinking coffee, only a friend had already bought mine. And he looks at me and says, “If you pay for mine and the Princess’ coffee, I’ll give you five bucks tomorrow because I get paid.”

Technically, the money hits his bank account at midnight. And it was 11:30 PM. And he knew how much he was getting paid. I say okay, whatever, pay for his and Princess’ coffee.

Next morning, I go to take him to work and take the Princess job hunting with me (for the first time since she’s been back in three weeks). I ask when I’m gonna get my money, so I can buy some ramen noodles to eat at home. Roommate says when he has it, and runs into a gas station to buy smokes. Princess then starts carrying on about how tight money is and all that, and the whole time she’s talking, I’m envisioning blowing the back of her skull off with a 12-guage shotgun. Point blank. Then Roommate reappears and we go on our way.

As we pull into the parking lot, he swings around to McDonald’s for a bite to eat. Looks at me and says, “If you want that five back, this is how you’re getting it.” Excuse me? A couple of dollar cheeseburgers and you expect us to be even? No. I need that money for other things, like buying a little bit of food for at home, to keep me from spending money I don’t have on fast food junk.

And I tell him as much in a text message later.

He doesn’t like it when people challenge his authoritah, apparently. He doesn’t like when people refuse to kiss his ass. So, after I point out to him several facts and he refuses to respond, he ignores me for the rest of the day.

After I go to sleep, he sticks his head in my bedroom to tell Redhead, “C’mere, we need to talk.” When asked, what about, all he can offer is, “Stuff.”

Redhead follows him to the kitchen, at which Roommate (henceforth referred to as Asshole) begins to tear into HIM about how I have an attitude problem. Redhead looks at him, holds up a hand, and says “Don’t even start.” Turns around, walks back to the bedroom, locks the door, and curls up with me.

See, I had shown Redhead the text messages back and forth between Asshole and I. Showed him the text saying if he owes me money, he owes me money and not cheeseburgers. Showed him where Asshole responded with a clear and disrespectful “Bite Me.” Showed him where he continued to disrespect me and outright lie, until which point I nailed him on his never having any intention of paying me back, and his silence for the rest of the afternoon.

Redhead was going to have none of Asshole’s lies. Or should I say ‘fairy tales’? Asshole would never lie! Just like he would never, ever brag about how many women he sleeps with, or what kind of job he has, or who he knows. Not him.

One thing that really chapped mine and Redhead’s asses both was the fact that Asshole wanted to bitch about me not contributing around the apartment. Whoa whoa whoa. Rewind. Did he just say what I think he said? This coming from the boy who told me he wasn’t going to do dishes because he hated them, and if I wanted the apartment clean, I should clean it myself? And a week later, bitching me out because there’s no clean glasses?

See, I’m the only person in the apartment who cleans. And I’ve tried telling the rest of them: as far as dishes are concerned, as soon as you’re one with them, put them in the dishwasher. That way we don’t have a mountain of dishes that are going to require a day’s soaking in hot water before I can manage to get the gunk that’s caked on there off. So, yeah. I do dishes. I take out trash. I scrub counters. I cook most of the time, too.

And he wants to say I don’t contribute? This all goes without saying I’m out on a daily basis, busting balls to find a new job. I need a job. Money is too tight for me to not work. I know this. So I look. Constantly. Every day, I’m out there. And when I come home, I clean.

Most people would consider me cooking and cleaning… contributing. Especially considering the job-hunting by day bit.

But what makes Redhead and I the angriest is the fact that Asshole wants to chew me out about not contributing, when his darling little Princess never even comes out of her bedroom. Cleaning? Yeah right. Look for a job? Ha! Her rent is paid on a nightly basis. All she’s got to do is lie on her back with her legs in the air.

She doesn’t know any better. She was a virgin when Asshole met her. She’s never been with anybody else. Romantically, either, from what she’s said. She doesn’t know about how big of an asshole is. He’s charming to her, and he takes care of her, so she doesn’t care.

But yes. She sits in their bedroom, playing the Sims and Solitaire on his computer. Only time she comes out is when she wants something to drink. Or is hungry, in which case she sends Asshole for Chinese food, like she did Saturday night.

I thought money was tight, kids? What happened to not being able to afford to pay me five lousy dollars? Can’t do that, but you can go spend twenty bucks on crappy Chinese take-out?

The worst part was Friday night. Redhead’s friend came into town for the night, met us at Country Kitchen where we were drinking coffee and hanging out. They went downtown to the bars to celebrate. Asshole texts me, wondering if the car will be home by the time he has to get up early and go to work at Arrowhead Stadium. I tell him yes. I point out the fact that the bars close at 1:30, those two have no place else to go, and I never stay out later than 1 AM anyway. He persists with hypothetical what-ifs that he knows are never going to happen.

I do not stay out late. And Redhead does not stay out late either.

I sent a text to Redhead saying, “Asshole is making a big deal about whether or not the car will be home by in the morning.”

I thought I sent that to Redhead. Somehow, I sent that to Asshole. Asshole wasn’t too happy and immediately called to tell me I had an attitude and he didn’t want none of it. This is where it gets amusing.

See, I have this character flaw. I can’t deal with bullshit and arrogant pricks who think they’re better than everybody around them. This is probably why me and Asshole get into a fight at least once a week. I told Asshole without even thinking that he was really one to talk, considering the line of bullshit he had tried to feed me the night before.

Oops. I think I crossed the line. He told me to come home, and do it now.

Ordinarily, I would tell him to take a flying leap. And I was begging to, trust me. Except for the part where I didn’t want to get arrested for Grand Theft Auto.

When Asshole first approached Redhead and I about moving in with him, he had to beg us. We didn’t want to live out on the edge of town, especially with no way to get back into town. It’s several miles that I severely do not want to walk on a daily basis. But he needed someone to room with him, because he couldn’t afford the place on his own. I asked him, why don’t you find a place that’s cheaper? There’s plenty of them in this town.

He wanted this place. This place was more his style. He has standards, you know.

I ignored that slap in the face and we negotiated. We needed transportation, and Asshole agreed to leave his truck with me during the day. I’d drop him off at class, then pick him up and take him to work. That way I would be able to go job hunting, pick up and drop off Redhead at work as needed, and be able to make it to all my doctor’s appointments. And it worked fine.

Until I bucked against him and refused to submit to his will. Then he tells me to bring his car home, and right now.

So I do. But not after driving clear to the other side of town to buy cigarettes (and waste gas), and letting some air out of each of his tires. Not all of it, just enough to be a nuisance.

I know. Petty and juvenile. But he pissed me off, and I’ve been taking a lot of shit from him since we moved in. My pride is severely wounded.

I text Redhead and let him know what’s going on. About an hour later, him and his friend come home, bellowing at the top of their lungs.

My heroes.

Asshole got up and went to Arrowhead Stadium. He came back real late that night, and for two days in a row, has gotten up, and instead of the usual having either myself or the Princess drop him off at class or work, he has taken himself, and kept the truck with him.

I mentioned this to Redhead. I think my driving privileges have been revoked because I refuse to kiss his ass. Redhead calls him. “Have her driving privileges been revoked?” No, of course not. “Because it sure as hell seems like it. Every time she needs the truck to get somewhere, you have it, and you aren’t due home for hours. Convenient.”

I still have driving privileges, apparently. It’s just getting my hands on the fucking keys to the truck that’s the hard part.

Redhead and I are moving out as soon as I find a new job. And we’ll laugh and watch Asshole and Princess flounder and drown under the weight of their own egos.


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