The Story of My Gay Indian Roommate, or: Things I Would Have Remembered

I've been emailing back and forth with former D.C. Roommate #1 a lot this week. She was an awesome roommate who, unfortunately, had to move out and get married. When she moved out, Roommate #2 moved in to take her place, who ended up being batshit insane. (That's a story for another day, my dears.) Anyway, after the Roommate #2 incident, I was very wary about finding a replacement so Roommate #1 hooked me up with a friend of hers from work, Roommate #3, also known as My Gay Indian Roommate.

Roommate #1 was only ever "work friends" with My Gay Indian Roommate, so she still thinks that he's this quiet, conservative guy instead of the total party-boy lush that he really was. In fact, she suggested him specifically because she knew how crazy Roommate #2 had been and thought his calm, mild-mannered demeanor would be a welcome change. Since they may work together in the future and she would likely be his supervisor, I haven't told Roommate #1 the full story but it's quite amusing to hear how her impressions of him from work are completely different from the reality of living with him.

In the entire year we lived together, I don't think I once saw him totally sober. His friends were completely sketchy -- at one party he threw, one guest mentioned that she had recently been charged with a DUI. Everyone started nodding in agreement and relating stories of their own (multiple) arrests for drunk driving and I soon realized I was literally the only person at the dinner party with no DUI on her record. He was very generous, though -- when I was packing for a trip to Ireland, I mentioned that I often have trouble sleeping on planes and he ran back into his room and reappeared with a selection of questionable narcotics. (I politely declined, that not being my scene and, even if it was, wondering who thought it would be a good idea to experiment while on a plane in the middle of the Atlantic.)

The crown jewel, however, has to be the fact that he may or may not have had a threesome with our upstairs neighbors and, to this day, still can't remember. Picture it -- Saturday morning, 9 AM, me sitting on the couch watching CNN and eating cereal. My roommate comes out of his bedroom and plops down next to me on the couch:

Me: Hey.
R: Hey.

(pause)

R: I think I might have had a threesome with the neighbors last night.
Me: You "might have"?
R: Yeah. I don't remember.
Me: You don't remember?
R: Yeah, we were drinking and I took some pills...
Me (interrupting): What'd you take?
R: ...I don't know. I didn't ask. He offered them and I just took them. (Sighs) So, anyway, I kind of remember going back in the bedroom with them. Or maybe not. Huh. That's so weird.

(pause)

Me: There has to be some way for you to know....Are you...sore?
R: No more than usual. (breezily) Oh well!

(He gets off couch and skips back into his bedroom. I sit on the couch wondering WTF?!)

So the next time that you're at the water cooler trading stories about the weekend with one of your coworkers, just remember that you might not be hearing the entire story.

Comments

[ogged]

Now, see, there's no doubt that the lives of our co-workers are mysterious to us, but you have to figure that Roomie #1 was truly bad at reading people.

[LizardBreath]

Good heavens, Couldn't he have asked the neighbors? Although I admit I'm not sure how.

[Bostoniangirl]

How weird, Becks. Did your family ever find out about all of this? And was his drama better or worse 9from your perspective) than Roommate#2's?

[ogged]

Couldn't he have asked the neighbors?

This is the obvious (and obviously wrong) course of action.

[Chopper]

I don't have anything to add, except ogged just totally stole your post. He took credit for writing it, too.

[bostoniangirl]

(This is the same bg as above.) Chopper, do you really think he took credit? Beck's not here to tend the comments.

[Isle of Toads]

This happened to me once, but I just concluded that if the threeway did take place, it must've been a pretty shitty threeway, and not worth bothering anyone about.

[Wettham Saiselgy]

Alcohol + pills = uncertain about last night's sex acts doesn't seem all that rare. Haven't we all been there at one point in our lives?

[Armsmasher]

And if not yourself personally, hasn't someone in your close circle? It's still very funny, no matter.

[Chopper]

bg:j/k

[ogged]

uncertain about last night's sex acts doesn't seem all that rare

The details are the thing: Becks helpfully suggesting a way to figure it out; the breezy nonchalance of the roommate; the discrepancy between the roommate's lifestyle and the reasons he was recommended. Storytelling, man, storytelling.

[Wettham Saiselgy]

The astounding part is that he was up at 9AM.

[Matt Weiner]

Dunno, even plain ol' drunkenness tends to lead to inability to sleep in for me.

[Wettham Saiselgy]

See, plain ol' drunkenness makes it impossible for me to wake up. Add some pills into the mix and, well, it depends what kind of pills.

[Matt Weiner]

I killed it! Me!

[teofilo]

You know, I hear that Wehttam Saiselgy can't spell worth a damn.

[Matt Weiner]

I would like to claim that total suckiness of my comments on this thread is a matter of drunkenness rather than exhaustion, but it is not so.

[Armsmasher]

Weiner is brained.

[Armsmasher]

Damnit, I killed this thread.

[Fontana Labs]

Weiner, remember that weird threesome we had at the last APA? That was some freaky shit-- and I'll never look at All/an Gib/bard the same way again.

[Matt Weiner]

Um, could you not do that around my real name?

[ogged]

Reniew Ttam is available. (This comment isn't going to make sense after Becks deletes Fontana's comment, is it?)

[Matt Weiner]

De-googling the other name would probably be perfectly adequate. I'm actually grinning, although that may just be my lack of self-preserving instincts.

[fL]

Yes, my mistake, it wasn't actually M8a%t@t W(e^i!n_e+r but a suave philosopher named "Reniew." I blame the pills.

[Becks]

A very belated response to comments:

No, my parents never found out about this and, hopefully, they never will. First, because the question of my roommate's sex life might bring into question my own, and we have a strict "don't ask, don't tell" policy about that. And second, because they already have enough stereotypes about gay men being promiscuous. I don't need to reinforce those, it would just make discussing a bunch of my friendships more difficult.

He never asked the neighbors. We agreed that was a bad, bad, bad idea, especially since they were a straight (perhaps -ish) married couple.

From my perspective, this was better drama than the Roommate #2 drama, which was just fucked up. I may tell that story someday if I'm in the mood but it's mostly bad memories so that mood may never come.

True, alcohol + pills = uncertain about last night's activities isn't rare. Not caring was the more interesting part to me. When I get drunk and do something stupid, I at least make a wholehearted effort to piece together all of the events from the previous night.