Roomies

Garret was my roommate of three years, a good friend and one heck of a party person. The only down side, the frequency at which he would stumble through the door at the wee hours of the morning, waking my sleeping bum up. Being the good roommate that I am, I would often help him to his bed where he would pass out in whatever position I decided was the best. Usually that meant head turned to the side just in case his body rejected the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

Typically, his so called buddies would crash through the door and subject each other to random acts of humiliation; taking pictures to post online or use as blackmail. It was not like they had complete disregard for my sleep, just that they were drunk morons looking for a good time. Okay, so maybe it was complete disregard. Over time, their activities mutated and one night they brought over a girl, just one, and had their way with her. At first I thought they had planned it, but after peeking in and taking notes, she seemed to be the most sober and was actually commanding the over eager boys. It was then I realized, she was having her way with them. It made me wonder if she was a professional.

Those nights blurred together, numbing me to the late night chaos that was sure to come home whenever Garret said, “Going out with the boys tonight.” I appreciated the gesture, and knew it was his way of apologizing for any inconvenience. At least they did not try and bring me into the crazy mix of sex and alcohol. Admittedly, I often watched and, drifted off to sleep wondering what it would be like. Just a passing thought with my own pragmatism bringing me back to Earth. I did not want to regret anything, and with this bunch of boys, I am sure I would have.

And so it happened again. I heard the clanging of the keys just before the door swung open and banged the wall, followed by loud cheers and shouts. Joe, Kent, Cameron and Garret, I knew their voices, but I waited for more. I heard two distinct girl’s giggling and making remarks about the place.

“Hey, where’s the alcohol?” One of the girl’s asked.

“In the,” Garret stuttered and failed to finish.

“Here, I will look for it.” Joe was the instigator of all things that ended badly.

“What a cute place. Who lives here?” She almost sounded interested.

“Dude, where’s the Vodka?” Joe was rummaging through the freezer, then the cupboard. He was not subtle and the trashing of our place easily betrayed his location.

“Shit!” That’s all Garret had to say.

“Serious dude?”

“I have plenty at my place and my roomies aren’t home.” It was Kent, the one who lived in a nice condo provided for by his parents. Their way of saying, you are still our kid.

“Crap, is Rachel here?” Joe again.

“Who’s Rachel?” The other girl spoke.

“The roomie. Maybe we should go to Kent’s.” Thanks Joe, I whispered to myself. That was about when I heard the thud.

“Looks like Garret had a little too much tonight.” Cameron was sure to enforce the pass out rule. One that nobody wanted to be a victim of. Garret was usually pretty good about making sure he was not the first one to go down. But perhaps every dog has his day. I know, wrong context.

“Joe, give me a hand.” Some snickering, a few grunts and then nothing. The voices faded beyond the door, suddenly muted followed by a click.