From Frugivore — “You’re prettier but she’s way sexier.” Thus started one of the worst back-handed compliments I’ve ever received. “She just knows how to use what she’s got. You’re… kinda spastic.”
The speaker was Shane, my rakishly handsome neighbor my freshman year of college. My roommates and I all had massive crushes on him which he both knew and used to his advantage. Two of my roommates were quickly out of the game, one by her own volition (she claimed she was playing hard to get but it came across as just not playing) and one was summarily dismissed when it was discovered she was running from the law. That left my roommate Becky and I to vie pathetically for his affections.
For reasons I can only now attribute to a lackadaisical attitude towards school and an overconfidence in his parents’ ability to take care of him the rest of his life (what a winner!), he was constantly over at our apartment. And his favorite game was wrestling. Preferably both of us at the same time. You have no idea how embarrassed I am to have just typed that so please forgive my idiocy and remember I was young – I was on campus part-time at 15, full-time at 17. Young girls do stupid things. Girls Gone Wild is a billion dollar industry based on that one fact. Not that what I did was Girls Gone Wild worthy. Wow, I’m just digging this hole deeper and deeper. Anyhow.
It was during one of these epic wrestling matches that he decided to lay that bit of wisdom on me. My face burned red and I knew I’d lost to the less-pretty but more-sexy Becky. Sure enough he was soon sampling all the flavors of her Lip Smackers – Dr. Pepper was the clear winner – and I was relegated to pretending not to hear despite the fact that Becky and I shared a room. (Sadly, that was not my worst roommate-makeout experience. That award goes to my junior year when I woke up to my bunk bed rocking. While I was getting my beauty rest on the top bunk, my adorable freshman roommate who only wore daisy dukes and camis even in the dead of winter, was playing birth control bingo on the lower bunk. Best part? As he was a (drunk) cop, he handcuffed her to the bed with real handcuffs… and lost the key. Yours truly to the rescue, hiking to his house in the middle of the night to get the spare. Hey at least it got me off the Noah’s Ark Bed.)