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Arguing With Roommate

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Arguing with my roommate and considering whether or not to beat the shit out of him.

Age Rating:

My roommate was playing Ariana Grande just quietly enough and we were sitting on our beds filling out tests.

“Does she have to verbally say Yes consistently throughout?

“I haven’t gotten there yet, don’t spoil it,” he said. “Being a player is a risk factor for being a sexual predator?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Wasn’t a question, fam.”

“Then why’d you ask? Fam?”

“What’s that now?”

“Why’d you ask?”

“Because I didn’t hear you, fam.”

He switched tabs. I could see his screen. He was messaging some girl.

Janice: so friday then

Me: if u want

Janice: i dont have classes then obv but its whatevr tbh

Me: yea fam

Me: probably fri

Janice: lit

Me: i dont know if i can do fri

Janice: kk

“She’s not going to answer for five minutes,” he said. He checked his phone. “But she won’t wait exactly five, it’ll be four or six.”

“What do you get out of it?”

“What’s that fam?”

“Out of texting like that. What do you get out of it?”

“This …” my roommate said climactically, then pretended to think about it, “Is messaging. I’m not on my portable telephone. So it’s not texting.”

“What do you get out of messaging?”

“Messages, for one thing.”

“Is it rape if you’re both drunk?”

“These things are complicated.”

I clicked Yes.

“The human psyche … is complicated,” my roommate told me. He got a notification. “All right, here we go.”

“How long was it?”

“What’s that fam?”

“Forget it.”

Janice: sunday

Janice: u want to then

Me: yea thats lit

Janice: ok theres a volleyball game u want to go watch that

Me: yeh

Janice: or something else

Me: its cool

“Okay she’s going to try …”

Janice: im just chilling in my room rn

“to flip it on me.”

Me: u want me to cum over?

“So we play into it …”

Janice: u can if you want idc

Me: yeh maybe

“She’s not very good at it,” I said.

“What’s that fam?”

“She’s not very good at it.”

“Good at what, fam?”

“The alienation game.”

“Yeah, fam. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

He looked at me with an ugly, gleeful grin.

“She’s playing just fine.”

“She doesn’t want to play.”

“Why’s that fam? We’ve been getting after it for two days.”

“Then it’s about time to ghost.”

“Hey fam, ghosting isn’t cool.”

“She’s only playing ’cause she doesn’t know how to get out of it. She’s afraid to be honest. She’s just digging deeper.”

He shrugged. “You don’t know this chick very well.”

“You don’t either.”

“Think she’d love you if you were just honest and open with her?”

“I don’t know. … Is it sexual assault if you’ve been making out and you reach somewhere you haven’t asked?”

“You’re the philosopher.”

He got another message. From someone else.

Gillian: hey did u ask Janice out?

Me: yeh probably

Gillian: whats probably

Me: almost certainly; as far as one knows or can tell.

Gillian: yeah I KNOW

Me: its an adverb

Gillian: okay but you did ask her out

“See what the fuck is the point of all this?”

“Does there have to be a point, fam?”

“That’s why we do things.”

“An appeal to tradition isn’t a … fallacy—right?—if the tradition has value in itself.”

“Okay Kant, what’s the value?”

“Of what, fam?”

“Messaging like this.”

“It rejuvenates the soul. It allows a body to better understand their place in the universe. It’s the precursor to great art, to beauty beyond opinion. It defies the gender binary. It bolsters culture. It redefines traditional values so we can have a perspective on both the new and the old. It allows you to appreciate the sacrifice of our forefathers. It clarifies the existential ambivalence of our time, finding patterns underlying the scattered. It’s the master of serialized television, the champion of early quadrupeds. It’s why the sea is boiling hot, and the reason wigs were once bling. Ultimately, it’s the reason you and I are fam.”

“Give me a girl’s number.”

“Without asking her, fam?”

“Do you think that’s sexual assault?”

“I don’t know, fam … I think yes means yes.”

“You’re not supposed to use the word you’re defining in the definition.”

“I’ll take you to a party sometime and we’ll meet your soulmate. For real, fam, she’ll be bae. If you tell girls you’re a ‘philosopher’ you’ll be drowning in pussy.”

I was about to snap at him but he gave an understanding nod and continued, “I want to help you. We’re not so different, you and I,” he said like he was innocently suggesting something. “It’s cold in the Arctic and the Antarctic because we get—the beauty of a barren land.” he nodded again, “As far as the eye can see. Tell you what: We’ll get in touch with our feelings together. At all costs. Bar none. Because I like you, and you’ve got a good personality, fam.”

He pretended to be tentative and bit on his lip. He reached out to touch my arm delicately.

I slapped his hand. “Will you stop calling me ’fam’?”

“What’s that? Oh sweet a … girl … just texted me. What … do you know … ?” he put his face into his phone.

I finished the test and sat on the bed thinking whether to go kill at the gym or kill my roommate or read.

“Here this girl says you can have her number. She says she knows you.”

“Yeah? Shoot.”

“Well she said maybe. Give it a minute … she’s about to ghost, I think. Oh, well.”

“Who was it?”

“What’s that fam?”

“The girl. Who wanted my number.”

“She says you take biology together.”

“I don’t take biology.”

“Really? I thought you were a bio major, fam.”

I didn’t say anything to that and it looked like our unconversation was over. Then, I don’t know why, “What time’s that volleyball game?”

“You want to go with me?”

“I’ll go by myself. But I want to go.”

“If you want to come all you need to do is ask.”

“I don’t believe in friendship.”

“Man’s gotta believe in something, even if it’s soap operas. Gotta serve someone.”

“Just tell me what time the game is.”

“I’d need to ask Janice.” he got a text and went back to that.

“Will you turn the fucking headache off?”

“My music? It’s quiet enough.”

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