Kamran’s taking his LAST FINAL EXAMS OF LAW SCHOOL EVER this week, so he asked me to stay at my own apartment last night to give him the freedom to walk around his apartment in my pink slippers and recite his outlines to himself all night. My new roommate, Jack, had gone to the gym after work, so I sat watching girly things on his ginormous TV while sitting on a blanket to protect my butt from whatever might rub off from my couch.

See, my last boyfriend and I bought the couch from some dude off of craigslist five years ago when I moved here. It’s this Victorian-looking white silk-ish affair that’s abnormally long and comfortable to sleep on, which may explain why my last roommate chose to bed down on it for 6 months instead of buying himself a mattress when we moved in together. It didn’t exactly make it out of that situation looking its best–I’m talking unexplainable orange stains here, friends–so Jack and I have OxiCleaned it twice now, and while the OxiClean is totally annihilating those stains and actually making the couch whiter than it ever was, we evidently need to take some plain water to it now, because it’s leaving some weird white residue on whatever touches it. I paid all of $150 for it, so it’s definitely paid its dues, but it’s a one of a kind treasure with that grandma aesthetic I like so much.

Anyway, Jack came home around 9, and we went to Dallas BBQ for some touristy pulled pork and the “Lil'” onion loaf, which is the size and shape of the Pyramid at the Louvre. A roommate dinner is a real pleasure for me, because I’m pretty sure my last roommate and I went out to dinner together exactly once. (We went to plenty of other things together–concerts, movies, the grocery store–but dinner conversation is not something he could handle.) And then on the way back into the apartment building, we stopped to pick up a package from the lady at the front desk, and I decided that if we didn’t make friendly conversation with her right then, we were going to get stuck in that place where she says hi to us every day but nothing else because we never showed any interest in her otherwise. We ended up talking to her for a good half an hour, which is the amount of time I’ve talked to every single doorman in Kamran’s building combined over the past four years.

So by the time we made it back up to the apartment, I was feeling pretty great. And then I realized I had thrown out my toothbrush at my last apartment and not gotten a new one yet. Jack looked through his stolen hotel supplies for one, but I wound up rubbing some toothpaste on my teeth with my finger and telling Jack to never tell anyone what he’d seen. He went into his bathroom to get me a roll of toilet paper for my bathroom, and I said I didn’t need one yet, but he said, “Oh, I have plenty. My mom got them for me. It’s sooooooooo great having a mom.” And then he emerged brushing his teeth with one of those fancy high-powered wet-vac-type toothbrushes.

Meanest roommate ever.