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ornithopter: The Story of Brandon - Chapter III |
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More about my awful roommate:
After finding yet another huge turd that must be made entirely of frozen pizza judging by the contents of our recycling bin, I was reminded of the following delightful "interactions" with Brandon.
Several times a month, I will come home to find some strange guy sleeping on our couch. This is not cool. One time it was this 6'3" rapper named Obi-Wan or Obi-One or something. He stayed in the living room watching TV until about 4 in the afternoon.
Then there is his childhood friend, Mike, who occasionally comes over (usually around 4am) For some reason, he will not stop pestering me with questions about every little thing. One night, he knocked on my closed door several times, which I answered in my pajamas and covered in zit cream because I was TRYING to sleep. He asked me all sorts of stupid questions about who knows what and then asked if I wanted to go out to a bar with him and Brandon. I was all, "Dude, I'm going to bed. I have a job and stuff."
Another "guest" was some little guy with a mousy mullet. I found a note outside my door in the morning from Brandon. It did not apologize for waking me up at 5am by blaring the TV, nor for the unexplained couch surfer. All it said was: "The guy sleeping on the couch is the most famous skateboarder in Boston. Just thought you should know. - B."
Why this information was at all important to me is a mystery. Should I have been impressed? Afraid? Hungry? Was Brandon just so enamored of this little rat boy who apparently didn't even have enough money to spring for a cab ride home that he was just bursting with the news and had to tell someone? We may never know.
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