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My Roommate, April 2008

May 5th, 2008 by Jeff Simmermon

This is my roommate at his most classic — wearing a necktie (which is obscured in the photo), smoking a cigarette and hanging out in the kitchen in his underpants. He asked to remain nameless for this post. Fair enough.

He may be one of the best roommates I’ve ever had. Neither of us is home very much, so we don’t get in each others’ hair. We’re both messy, though he shows more signs of effort than I do. He told me once

Look. I live in Williamsburg and I’m an interior designer. That’s gay enough, I don’t need to be all fastidious on top of it.

Near as I can tell, we’re laissez-faire about everything. I don’t sweat it when he eats my food, he doesn’t sweat it when I eat his, as far as I know. His boyfriend comes over a lot, but I really like my roommate’s boyfriend … I love having coffee with the two of them in the kitchen after a big night out, checking in here and there. We are less roommates/significant others than friendly truckers sharing a familiar truckstop.

My roommate’s older sister is one of the best friends I have like, on this earth. we share a squalid sense of humor and a love for wild tales of rotten behavior … and my rooommate, he’s right there in the mix.

He shared his own bedroom with me last summer when we housed a couple in our 2-bedroom place. You heard it. Four grown people, two bedrooms, a Brooklyn August. It sucked, but it could have been so, so much worse. He knew I was job hunting, knew I was looking for a crib, and calmly made the offer.

That cuts a lot of ice with me.

So here he is, making that face he always makes, one part mischief and one part sarcasm and a whole lot of awesome trouble about to bust out.


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