When introducing my roommate to anyone, I like to tell them that he is the “only Greek, Catholic, student athlete, RA on campus.” I think my description of him qualifies as what Plato calls a “true lie,” as it is not entirely truthful (nor at all truthful for that matter). I like to consider it an image of the truth.
After all, he did turn in a bid from a fraternity for about a week, proudly brandishes his Catholic Society sweater, plays club hockey (“plays” is a strong term for him, but he is showing a lot of improvement), and has been frequently referred to by guys in our dorm as “assistant to the Resident Assistant.”
When you’re someone’s roommate for two years, you learn a lot about them. For example, I know my roommate’s favorite fictional character is Lightning McQueen (“I am speed” is basically his life mantra), he has a habit of making “Finding Nemo” references in class, his favorite movie is “The Dark Knight Rises” he likes very oversized clothes with immaculate dad vibes, his favorite pair of shoes that he owns is his Sperrys, and he has the most remarkable ability to sleep anywhere, anytime, regardless of how loud or bright it is in the room.
Seriously — it takes so much to wake this man up. His sleep has even persevered through the Simpson fire alarm. This is actually a rather convenient trait for a roommate. I can get away with making almost any noise while he’s asleep. There are drawbacks, however.
For starters, he won’t wake up to the default alarm on his phone, so he has an app that makes his alarm even louder. Yet, he still sometimes finds a way to sleep even through that alarm as well. The Horn of Gondor could be blasting through our room, and he wouldn’t budge.
As a result, he has turned to alternative methods of getting himself to wake up. He intentionally will sleep in uncomfortable spots to make it harder for him to go back to bed. The sleeping spot he frequented most last year was the floor. He refused to use either his bed or our couch for most nights, opting to sprawl out right on the ground instead.
Despite all his quirks, life is never mundane or unexciting with my roommate.
I’ve witnessed him spontaneously shave his head to show solidarity with a friend a week after paying 30 bucks for a haircut. One time when my mattress was stolen by freshmen, I watched as he donned roller blades and a raid weapon before storming out of the room on a crusade to bring the guilty party to justice, loudly declaring, “these freshmen need to know that they don’t have rights!”
These instances also demonstrate another quality of my roommate: he is incredibly loyal. Though his methods of showing it might be unorthodox, he is unwaveringly dependable.
He is my closest confidant, my most trusted partner, my best friend and one of the most benevolent and reliable men I know. The lengths he will go to help a friend supersede that of any roommate.
My roommate is weird, and even he would acknowledge this as well, but he is also the best of roommates and the best of men.