Lee is my roommate and Sarah is his girlfriend who moved in with us in March. We all three live together.
I remember the day I said, “Sure Sarah, move on in! With all the money I save I can afford to … etc. etc.”
Now I realize my wicked penny-pinching ways have finally caught up with me and are beating my former “bachelor ways” senseless. I no longer wake to the sound of my alarm clock. The gentle noise of the radio, which once woke me each morning, has been replaced by a blow dryer emitting a sound so deafening it is akin only to “It’s time to get up!” from a mom.
I am an observer in a place few people dare tread; a place where I have only minimal input into the daily operations of our two-bedroom castle.
Sarah says, “Dirty dishes go in the dish washer!” I wonder if the sink is lonely? And “Don’t use the pretty towels, they’re only for lookin’ at!”
Dr. Dre said it best, “Thangs just ain’t the same for gangstas.” It’s not our fault, but Lee watches Guiding Light and I use hand soap with glitter in it.
For the past year Lee has been encouraging improvements in the apartment, but nothing significant ever materialized before she came to stay.
My Busch beer can candleholder moved pretty fast from the living room to my room last month. I thought the can was funny, but to my amazement it is pathetically tacky.
Tacky or not, I once believed everything in the world had a purpose. However, this is not so. While I am by no means a slob or opposed to improvements, I have yet to find a plausible use for the ceramic ostrich egg on top of the bookcase, laid there the day Sarah came to stay.
Now there are so many mirrors in our living room the only thing they reflect are the other mirrors. I appreciate the mirrors though; at a glance they silently remind me just what my life has become.
Most mornings I burn myself on her hell-hot hair flattener, while trying to maneuver around it in search of my toothbrush. That is if I’m lucky enough to find my toothbrush in a land of cosmetics so twisted only a Hollywood special-effects pit-crew could pretend to know what all of it is for.
I’ve learned everything is Lee’s fault, and therefore my fault “once removed.” Knowing this, I can often times put blame on Lee for stuff he didn’t do and only take a little blame myself.
I remember the days when Sarah lived over in the other building. Back when Lee possessed an enigmatic quality but still paid the rent. When he more or less visited me in our castle and served in her kingdom.
Those days are over, but I remain defiant. They are both my friends. They are both my favorite enemies.
As I watch their relationship unfold each and every day, I realize more and more that I am a participant in an experiment to which only I and others like me (if there are others) can understand; a relationship “once removed.

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