Auschwitz: An Adventure

When I moved back from Orlando I knew that I would need a roommate but after some of my past roommate experiences I wasn’t that excited. I mean, ever since Mu I always look through all of my roommates things to see if I can find anything criminalizing so that I have leverage to blackmail them if I need to. That doesn’t make me creepy. That makes me creepy smart.

Actually I never looked through my roommate, Megan’s things because she was so open that I searching was pointless. For example…

“Everyone’s looking at me because I’m not wearing a bra but I sort of love it.”

“I bought thirteen bottles of wine tonight and I already drank two of them!”

“I had the best day ever! I drank a Sundrop and got a smoothie from McDonald’s and then I watched four episodes of CSI and had sex with myself three times!!”

So I got on the good ol’ Craigslist thinking I was going to have to live with another straight guy who liked cars and football and couldn’t appreciate Florence and the Machine let alone the supercute boots I just bought. But then Craig did me a giant favor. On his list he delivered me Josh. At first I didn’t understand the sort of queeny quest Josh and I would embark upon. After several e-mails I looked him up on Facebook and discovered our only friend in common was Stupid Head. (Stupid Head is my ex who cheated on me and lied to me and told me that he wanted to break up with me four months before he could work up the balls to do it. But it’s totally cool because he’s a college dropout and a never-nude.) But it turned out that they only hung out once, lalala, I’m really frickin’ jaded.

Anyway, so Josh moves in and immediately I’m like the worst roommate ever. Within thirty minutes I tell him the story about Mu and how I intentionally broke his alarm clock. So you know, I’m starting off with a great first impression. And then the next day I was like, “You have friends, right? Because my old roommate didn’t and he was really weird so…” So now I’m REALLY on a roll. Meanwhile all my dishes are lying around everywhere and he’s discovering all the things around the house that don’t work.

“Ope yeah, Josh. So don’t close the bathroom door all the way because you’ll lock yourself in.”

“Hey Josh, this drawer is broken so don’t pull it out all the way because the knives will fall out of it and they’ll stab your feet.”

“Yeah the fire alarm just kept beeping all over the place so I just took the batteries out. But it’s not like there’s going to be a fire in the hallway, right?”

But now it’s great because we’re just like Will and Grace! We hang out all the time and have sleepovers and play Scrabble (but I always win) and make craft projects! We’ve also decided that we both want matching kitten tattoos. Oh, and Josh wants to change his last name to Puppy and he calls me B-Kitten for my nickname. So we’re Josh Puppy and B-Kitten! WE’RE DISGUSTINGLY CUTE.

                Josh and I decided to go to Pride in Mankato which was crazy and crazy lame at the same time. First of all, I’ve never seen so many gay people in Mankato before but the actual Pride Festival was more of a sign up for anti-discrimination laws and make a craft project festival? And then that night we decided to go to the dance with Josh’s friend Sid (not McDonald’s Sid) and we may or may not have been wearing our shwastey pants. So we get to the dance and it’s really high school and so after only about an hour, we leave.

                We’re like two miles from our house and we only make it, like, two blocks before Josh turns to me and says, “Wanna climb that billboard?” and I’m like, “Duh.” So we do. And here’s a picture of it.

The billboard is right next to a building and so we climb down on the roof and there’s like a giant pipe or something that I don’t see and I trip and fall. My body didn’t tell my arms to go out in front of me so I literally just slid along the roof face and all. As it turns out the roof was covered in this tar crap and the entire right side of my body was covered in black shit. So it’s whatever.

                We keep walking and two blocks later we see Dominos and we’re like, well we obviously need some, so I walk in looking like a stylish, hotassmess, coal miner and the conversation goes like this-

Me: Hi. I’m Brad.

Domino's Girl: I’m Darcy.

Me: Darcy. What can we have for free?

Domino's Girl: Haha nothing…

Me: Ok but seriously. We would really appreciate a medium, half sausage, half cheese pizza.

Domino's Girl: …Okay.

So we got a free pizza!

                Then, Josh and I were checking every door that we were walking by as we walked through downtown and by this point it’s like one in the morning. Well, we finally find one that’s open and it’s these stairs that lead to a roof and on the roof is a patio with chairs and things! So we’re eating our pizza and the most adorable cat comes over and Josh decides to name it Josh, of course. We’re just in love with it and even though I’m allergic I’m like rubbing the cat all over my face. But then we finished our pizza and went home and went to bed.

                When I woke up, my eyes were swollen like crazy, I was wheezing, and when I looked in the mirror, I was covered in tar and cat hair. But I was really hungry and so I went downstairs and then I noticed that there was blood all over my leg! So I start picking at it to figure out where my wound is but it turns out that it was just pizza sauce.

                Is the lesson to not judge books by their covers? Or is the lesson to not cover your face in something you’re allergic to? Neither. The lesson is if you take the first letter off Josh and the first letter off his last name - Schutz, his name spells Osh Chutz. Which sounds like Auschwitz. Which is funny.  If you don’t think so, then I’m sorry you feel that way. 

Bedazzled Heart

                I have been employed eight different times in the twenty-one years that I have lived and each of them was their own special bedazzle on my heart. My heart is covered in bedazzles actually. There’s one for The Matrix, one for Zachary, Teresa Giudice, Starbucks, Dolce and Gabbana, and many other things that make my life sparkle. My heart is also covered in corduroy, camouflage colored scales that represent everything that I hate. My doctor tells me that if I get too many scales on my heart that I’ll soon get so stressed that I’ll look like an orc version of Marcus Bachman.

                Hy-Vee was the first job that I’ve ever had. Believe it or not, in Great Faces, Great Places, South Dakota you may drive when you are only fourteen years old! Imagine Abigail Breslin just cruisin’ around in that big, old bus with her dead grandpa in the back going to work. Well that’s me. I would push carts and bag groceries. If someone made me mad, I would put cans on top of their tomatoes.  You know those aprons that they always wear? Well I found out that more went on under those aprons in the break room than I would have liked to know.

                Actually, looking back on Hy-Vee, I realize that my fellow employees must have been high every other day. One time I took out the trash with this other kid and instead of taking it to the compacter like a human, he lifted the bag over his head and drank the garbage juice. I probably should have taken a page out of his book. I would break jars of baby food on purpose so that I could break the basic routine and clean them up.

                Bagel Boy was my second job and BAGEL BOY IS THE BEST PLACE EVER! Bagel Boy makes bagel sandwiches and coffee and soup and it’s so delicious. The weird thing was that the managers were never there so I just ate bagels all day and got really fat. I know that people don’t believe me when I say that I was fat but seriously. Look at this picture and tell me otherwise.

                Old Navy was awesome. I worked there with my bff Rachael and she definitely got the short end of the stick on that one. I worked in the fitting room where I would have fashion shows every day with Andrew and Rachael always had to work in “Kids” which they may as well have named “Apocalypse” because that was what it looked and felt like to work in “Kids” every day. There were millions of tiny jeans to be folded and there was always pee or barf on the floor.

                Rachael and I would also make a game out of selling ONC’s. That stands for “Old Navy Card” yeah! Every time we were at the register we would think of the most creative way to sell an ONC.

Rachael: Ok, and your purchase comes to $11.56. Would you like to save a treasure chest of money by signing up for an Old Navy Card today?

Customer: (Fills out nearly the entire signup sheet) Wait. Is this a credit card?

Rachael: (speaking as slow as possible thinking she may confuse the customer) Uuuummmm…. (breath) …. Yesss…. It is…. (then takes off at light speed) butit’sareallygooddealandyou’llloveitandyoucansaveatreasurechestandit’sreallyawesomeandyoulookreallygoodtoday!

Customer: Oh ok. Uh. No thank you, then.

                After that I worked at Starbucks. Starbucks to me is like a grocery store to a child with Prader-Willi Syndrome. It is by far one of my favorite places to be and in the top two of my favorite places to work. The best part was the customers. I don’t think it’s difficult to order a drink correctly. In fact, when the AP Style guide has to specifically state, “Espresso. Never expresso”  then there is clearly a problem with the world.

Can I please get a frappa mocha?

Where are the moo-lattes?

This tastes too much like coffee…

I’ll have a large macha-tee-toh.

A medium, please.

                Rachael posted this funny cartoon on my wall that summed up my life.

                And one time this lady ran into the side of Starbucks with her car. She was driving this brand new Escalade, had big boobs, big blonde hair, long nails, the works. I hand her the drink. She thinks she’s going to drive away but instead she decides to scrape her Escalade along the side of the building. Instead of, of you know, checking in with us to make sure there wasn’t any damage, she decided it would be best to just drive away.

                Then, I worked at Barnes and Noble which was fine.

                THEN, I WORKED AT DISNEY WORLD!

                Then, I did the roofing job which I still haven’t gotten a check for…

                Finally, I worked at McDonalds. It was sort of like working in the future because everything was automated and machines would like fill up the French fry baskets for us. But it was only like the future if the future is like working in “Kids” in Sierra Leone. I just really needed a job so I applied and I got it and whatever. On my first day, my manager yelled at the girl with Down Syndrome because she interrupted her. Every day I was burned by the oils from the fryers. One day this stud who we’ll call Sid had a conversation with me that went like this…

Sid: So what kinda girls are you into?

Me: None. None of them. … I’m gay.

Sid: What? (looking really concerned) Since when?

Me: Ever…

                Anyway, nothing was sanitary. We were supposed to wash our hands every thirty minutes but I saw people go the entire shift without washing their hands. The trays that the hamburgers sit in don’t get washed all day. One day I dropped an entire bag of fries in the fryer including the plastic bag which dissolved in less than a second. So after working there for less than two weeks, I quit. It was just terrible. I went up my managers and I said, “I’m quitting. I don’t like it here. So I’m going to leave.” And I walked out. … So it’s whatever.

                Is there a lesson in today’s lesson? Why yes. Yes there is. I’ve added another bedazzle to my heart. It’s called unemployment.   

Mu

                You know how everyone knows someone who had the worst roommate of all time? Well I was that someone. I HAD THE WORST ROOMMATE OF ALL TIME. I went into my freshman year thinking that I was going to be best friends with my roommate and that we would watch movies and have sleepovers every night and plan each other’s weddings. This was not the case.

                Muhammad seemed fine when I met him. He was an engineering major, short, wore glasses and moved to America when he was thirteen. His English was almost perfect but he had a hard time with his adjectives. When something was bad he would say, “It is so shit, man. It is so shit.” He also loved Celine Dion. I would turn on “My Heart Will Go On” on my laptop and Muhammad would immediately stop whatever he was doing and start singing along very poorly. Little did he know that Rachael was on Skype and we were secretly laughing at him.

One time Muhammad accidently put metal in his microwave and pink and blue sparks went everywhere and I laughed and he got really mad at me.

                The worst thing about Muhammad was that he had three alarm clocks. He had one of the old fashioned ones that looked like this-

And then he had two cell phones for some reason. Oh, and he also hated it when the room was messy so I tried very hard to be a neat person which my friends would attest is not an easy task for me. I’m seriously a giant slob. One time I found a Dorito in my chest hair.

SO he would go out with his friends and drink and smoke hookah at their houses and then come back at three or four in the morning. Then, at seven his old fashioned alarm clock would go off and make the sound of a banshee. THEN every minute after that his cell phones would take turns alternating alarms which he would continuously hit the “snooze” button for about an hour until he woke up. I had several “roommate” talks which I said things like, “I feel” and “It makes me uncomfortable” and “Does everyone in the Middle East have three alarm clocks because I watched The Kite Runner and I didn’t see any of that going on.” He would wake up on time for three or four days and then he would relapse and start “snoozing” again.

Well one day I had enough! I said to myself, “I am a strong, independent, black woman inside of a white, gay man’s body and I don’t need any of this shit!” So I got up and threw my clothes all over the floor and started brushing my teeth and Mu realized that he was late for class yet again so he began scrambling to get dressed and he said, “Hey can you clean this stuff up?” And I said, “No! I don’t know how many times I have had to talk to you about your alarm clock but I’m seriously super sick of it!” My voice rose two entire octaves by the end of that sentence. He says “whatever” and runs out.

Later that day I’m reading a book in our dorm and he walks in and this is how the conversation goes-

Mu: Hey can I talk to you?

Me: (Thinking he’s going to apologize) Yeah what’s up?

Mu: First of all, don’t ever talk to me like that again. And second of all, I’m not going to change and there’s nothing you can do about it.

                And then he just walks out. At this point I am boiling with rage. I don’t think I have ever been that pissed since my speech teacher tricked me into thinking that Britney Spears died. So I went down to the front desk of my dorm and asked for the smallest screw driver possible. I brought it back upstairs, unscrewed the back of his alarm clock, pulled some wires, and put it right back where I found it. I’m such an evil genius.

                Around midnight, I go to bed but I can’t sleep because I’m like that little boy in the Disney World commercial-

                Mu comes home around two and he bounces around the room for a little bit and I hear him start to mess with his alarm clock. He tries to fix it for about five minutes before banging it on the counter (engineering major?) and finally turns on the music as loud as possible, turns on all the lights and starts screaming at me! Of course I’m awake this whole time but I squint and rub my eyes and I’m all, “mmmwhat? Mwhat’s going on?”

Mu: You broke my alarm clock!

Me: What are you talking about? (sleepily)

Mu: I know you broke it I know you did!!

Me: How would I ever do that Muhammed? It’s probably broken because you were banging it on your desk.

                At this point he is lunging at me with his hands in fists. I didn’t know he was going to be so upset! I mean it’s not like Celine Dion gave it to him! But I was pretty scared that I was going to get beat up so I called security and they said that they would be right over. Muhammed was hell bent on making sure that security knew that I broke his clock. We wait half an hour. I call them again and they said that they were coming. So by this point it’s like three in the morning and security never comes and Mu forgets that he’s angry and falls asleep. Well I’m scared that he’s going to kill me in my sleep so I stay up the rest of the night.

                And I am pissed. Right? So I stay at Justin’s for a few days and find a new dorm. But as I’m moving out I decide to look through all of Mu’s things one last time. And. I. Found. It. A backpack full of alcohol. So I grab the bag, bust Mu for underage consumption in the dorms, and move out :)

                Is there a lesson to be learned from this? Yes. Yes there is. I am such a slob that sometimes I spray Febreze on myself and call it “a shower.”

The West Wing

                I have a terrible temper. You know in Beauty and the Beast when the Beast freaks out because Belle was in the west wing? Well someone is in my west wing all the time.

One time I was walking across the street on campus and this truck turns into me and nearly hits me. He starts yelling at me and pointing at the red hand that I guess means don’t walk but it was a green light! So I started yelling back and I refused to move out of his way so that he couldn’t drive anywhere. Luckily, Jason witnessed the entire thing and yelled at me to get in his car. Another time, I thought this lady waved me to turn out into the street in front of her so I do just that and she starts honking at me like crazy. So I just roll my eyes but then she starts to follow me super close so I slammed on my breaks as hard as I could to which she responded with more honking and screaming. THEN THIS OTHER TIME I was walking through my apartment complex parking lot at Disney World and this guy drives by me super fast and nearly hits me so naturally I flip him off. He stops the car, rolls down the window, and goes, “’scuze me is there a problem?” And I go, “Yeah! You’re fucking driving like and asshole!” And then we get in this giant screaming match that I don’t really remember very well because I may or may not have been slightly inebriated but I DO remember yelling, “Then fuckin’ do it! See what happens!” like I’m Steven Segal or something.

And that’s not even the half of it. Leah asked me one time if I had been tested for aspergers. So that was really nice of her.

It’s not that I really like to start fights with people but I feel this compulsion to correct people when they’re wrong or stupid. I took an online class this last summer and it was basically the most ridiculous thing ever. First of all, the class was called “Interpersonal Communication” so that totally makes sense for an online class. Second of all, the girls in my class were so duuuuumb. They were so dumb. We had to do discussions online and a question might be like, “How does new technology impact your life?” And these girls would answer like, “I think that technology is bad for us sometimes because instead of calling my mom I will just text her. But then I really like that I can text my mom whenever I want.” And then every single other girl in the class would say, “I completely agree. I think that’s a really interesting point.” Are you kidding me. We’re not going to talk about the implications of technology on war, poverty, government, or religion but instead we’re going to talk about you texting you’re mom? It made me feel like this-

                Then we had a discussion question that asked, “What sort of listening environments are effective or ineffective?” And after a buh-jillion moronic comments I had enough. It was the hit that caused the overdose. I wrote-


“I think everyone can agree that florescent lights, Facebook, and continuous lecturing does not create a listener friendly environment. But has anyone had to listen in a class with a leprechaun poking you every thirty seconds? Well, I have and it's terrible. So I was in my Into to Visual Culture Class and this leprechaun would not leave me alone! It kept saying mean things to me like, "You're going to fail this class," and "You look ugly today." That did not create an effective listening environment for me. I think that we need to focus on the removal of ALL leprechauns from the classroom. I am personally SO thankful that this is an online class so I don't have to face another situation like that. I also heard about this one kid who had to deal with a velociraptor...”


Somehow I still received an A.


                I think the worst time that I ever pissed anyone off was when I bought my new car. My dad and I had decided that we were getting the ostentatious gold 2009 Ford Focus. Our salesman was super nice if not too nice and he told us that we had to fill out a survey for all the people that helped us and that if they got anything less than all 1’s on the survey then they would be up for review. So we’re about to go to the finance guy’s office and my dad tells me that he’s going to try and sell us on all these upgrades and such and to not go with any of it because it’s basically a big scam.


                We walk into this guy’s office and his name was Josh and he was nice enough at first but then he pulls out a spread sheet with all of these charts and things.


                He starts talking and my dad interrupts him and says, “Just so you know we’re not going to go with any of these things today.” And Josh says, “Yeah well you know it’s part of my job so I have to tell you these things. Anyway…” He starts pitching some more, lalala, and I say, “Josh. My dad just said that we aren’t going to go with any of these things today so can we just skip this and leave?” Josh, “Ok I actually do have to go over these with you but if you look here…” Then my phone rings and I go out into the foyer to talk to my stepmom and I say loud enough for the entire dealership to hear, “No, we didn’t get the car yet. This guy Josh keeps talking to us about all these stupid things.”  I am soooo mature.


                I walk back into the office and Josh is still pitching to my dad and I yell, “JOSH. We’re not doing any of these things today! Okay? We’re just not!”


Josh: Ok look you know what? I don’t need any attitude from you!


Me: I don’t need this attitude from you!!


Josh: THIS IS PART OF MY JOB! I HAVE TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT THIS!


Me: WE ARE THE CUSTOMERS! WE KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GOING TO SAY AND WE DON’T WANT IT!


                It has now been two years since that argument and I couldn’t remember how the fight ended. I called my dad the other day to ask him and he goes, “Yeah I don’t know what happened. … Josh. What a dick.” We gave Josh the lowest scores possible on his evaluation and I checked the Ford website and he is no longer working there:)


                Besides the fact that I’m a petty bitch, what can we learn from all of this? Leah was probably right. I probably have aspergers.