I got blown up by a 17 inch battleship shell

Jan 24, 2005 16:08

I've been living in the dorms for a week now, and it's shaping up to be a pretty interesting experience. I'm slowly meeting new people who share my affinity for all things silly. Living at Bradley certainly has the potential to be an enlightening academic experience, that is, if I didn't have a roommate who is destroying my soul.

Let me tell you about Eric Fishman.

When I moved into the dorms last Sunday, I was a little apprehensive about meeting my new roommate. After all, I've been called a person who "cannot get along with anybody" and "hates everyone". But I think I would've been accepting of just about anyone. A nerd would've been great; someone with whom I could trade Spider-man banter. We could stay up all night watching special edition DVD's and listening to movie soundtracks. A brain-dead frat guy would have also been acceptable. After all, these men are street-wise, and would surely give me a position of power amongst their beer-guzzling, pussy-eating ranks. Even the archetypal College recluse would have made a good roommate. We would listen to Elliot Smith records together, and I could get some homework done while he did blow in the alley behind Heitz Hall. I was not expecting a roommate who would be exactly like me. I would never get that lucky, right? Riiiiiight. Thus, I was ready for anyone. Just not Eric Fishman.

As of last Sunday I had no roommate. I was the only person assigned to my room. No nerds. No jocks. No stoners. Just me, myself, and I. It was the best thing I could've asked for. And so for an entire day I had the whole room to myself. Monday afternoon rolled around, and I was watching TV when suddenly there came a knock at my door. I opened it, revealing a seven foot tall, socially awkward looking oaf, who I could only describe as Aaron Ruder meets Max Brook. He introduced himself as Eric Fishman, a 20-year-old Freshman with a penchant for Dave Matthew's Band. Eric went on to explain how much he hated his roommate, and how he'd learned from the Hall Director that I was currently living alone. Apparently his old roommate "never talked" and would occasionally have fits of rage. We had a brief conversation about musical tastes, sleeping habits, etc. I didn't really have a choice, so I agreed to room with this gigantasaurus.

He moved in all of his crap except for his bed. It was on Monday night that I started to sense that there was something horribly wrong with this man. You see, Eric's interests lie solely in stretegic board games. In an act of goodwill, I agreed to play Eric in a game of "Axis and Allies", which is a WWII version of "Risk". I quickly learned that I HATE STRATEGIC BOARD GAMES. Being new at the game, you'd think my adversary would go easy on me. But you'd be wrong, because you don't know the ego-monster that is the FISH-MAN. The guy treated me like I was a toddler, and rolled his eyes everytime I asked how many fighters I could buy. I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT FUCKING AXIS AND ALLIES, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I thought as Eric captured my fleet at Normandy. At one point during the game I just gave up entirely and started playing by my own accord. Eric and I were locked in combat on some island or something stupid like that, and I was like "Well my troops are just gonna blow up your stupid battleship, how about that?" This was a joke. I was smiling. Eric furrowed his brow and pushed up his thick glasses to get a better look at me. "Okay, well tell your fighters that they just got blown away by a 17 inch battleship shell," he said. It was at this point that I realized the man has no sense of humor whatsoever.

And it's all been downhill since.

He listens to the first ten seconds of every shitty song on his computer. Never the entire song, just the first ten seconds. And that's literally all he does all day, everyday. He doesn't leave the dorm room because he doesn't have any friends, neither from home nor at Bradley. This is something to which Eric himself will admit. He repeatedly called my friends "weird" after they did nothing out of the ordinary, and told Jason to go fuck himself. His B.O. has already attached itself to everything in the room, including my clothes and my furniture. Out of hundreds of DVD's the only movies in my collection that he'll watch are Catch Me If You Can, Fight Club, and Return of the King. Besides those, he literally HATES every movie ever made. If I show him a movie he hasn't seen before, he always calls it the worst movie he's ever seen. He said this about High Fidelity and Bad Santa. He also calls Forrest Gump the "one where he's on the bench" because he can't remember the fucking title to one of the most famous movies ever made.

So Tuesday rolled around, and Eric's old roommate finally came back. In the morning he told me that he wanted to move his bed into the room. I said fine. Later that day I was in the bathroom washing my coffee pot when Brenton Brown came in to wash his hands. I sat next to Brenton in English last semester, and we always got along real well. The kid is nothin' but nice, and would always give me a summary of the reading that had been assigned for that day.

So we get to talking, and as it turns out, Brenton is Eric's old roommate. Dumb fucking luck, right? Well it gets better. That night Eric and I were moving his bed outta the old room, when I noticed a VHS copy of Harold and Maude, one of the greatest cult films ever made. Upon inquiry, I learned that this movie belonged to Brenton. Then I saw that this kid had an amazing movie collection that was basically a smaller version of mine. On the dresser I spotted a Cat Stevens CD Collection, which also happened to belong to Brenton. I told Brenton that I had Cat Stevens' Greatest Hits album on vinyl. Then he showed me that he too had a vinyl collection! It was filled with stuff by Bob Dylan, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, etc. Basically, Brenton Brown is the bizarro Joey Fandel.

Then I looked at Eric, who was trying to lift the bed by himself as I looked at Brenton's record collection. I realized then that I HAD to move out. After living with the Fish-man for three days, I was sick of him. I found Bora, my Turkish RA, and told him that I wanted to move. He told me to give it a week or so. Well in the last week I have grown to hate Eric even more. He snores like a fucking chainsaw, he sits in MY recliner and watches College Basketball ALL DAY, and is blasting his little snippets of Dave Fucking Matthews even louder! On top of that, he asked if he could stay at my house over the summer. This is after I only knew the guy for a few days.

So today I went up to Bora and explained the situation to him. I told him that I could move in with Brenton, and Eric could live by himself, which I think would make him quite happy. Well apparently Eric can't live alone because he's got some kind of epilepsy or something. That's too bad, it really is, but it's also not my responsibility to take care of this guy. Like I have to remember what pills to give him and shit like that. I moved into the dorms so that I could be in a calm, studious environment, but thus far I've just been pissed off at this guy.

I asked Bora if I was outta luck, and he said no. He said he would talk to the Hall Director, but I doubt if anything will come of that. Looks like it's up to Joey to solve this one...

Other than that College is pretty cool. A lot of things have happened, but I'll have more on that after I rid myself of the Fish.
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