So I got a call tonight. When I answered, the person on the other end was immediately shouting a bunch of obscenities my way. Thinking it was some buddies pulling my leg, I answered “Andrew”?
Then I found out that the guy on the other end was serious. It wasn’t Andrew, but my roommate. To set the stage: two days ago, he comes home drunk out of his mind from a Kegger. He falls asleep on his couch. So what do I, a responsible roommate do? Why I get another partier to draw cocks on his body as I film of course! We then come up with the idea of writing the names of people down that attended the party to make it seem like that all happened while he was over there. Didn’t quite work.
Fastforward to two days later, and my roommate figures out the culprit. After the initial one-sided shouting match, and me hanging up on him twice for throwing swear words my way, he calmed down. By this point, he was expressing his very serious will to punch me in the face. Being a glutton for punishment, I let this go on for half-an-hour, patiently trying to soothe him. It didn’t work. He accused me of all sorts of things, over analyzing what I thought to be a very simple situation with no intended malice.
If there’s another bit of humour to extract from this, its this nugget during the emo phase of the conversation:
Him: I never want to see your face again.
Me: (Tired) Okay, fine. Can we get off the phone now?
Him: I mean what would your mother think?
Me: I told her. She laughed. (She did!)
Him: (Serious) I never want to see you or her again.