Doug had heard tales of wild roommates in college, that the “matchmaking” attempts by colleges generally resulting in horrible Freshman combinations, but it was past Labor Day, and he was already wondering how in the hell he could get rid of this fucker. Everything had been fine for orientation, hell, Ralph had actually seemed like a normal, decent guy, but this fucking weekend, what in the hell had happened to the guy from before? He didn’t have a problem with someone being a bit of a slob–hell, he wasn’t exactly the cleanest guy either–but this…mess.
Ralph’s “side” of the room looked like a bomb had hit it, and smelled like it had been a bomb filled with piss. Filthy clothes were strewn everywhere, across the floor, the chair, all of it muddy and messy. His computer had disappeared, replaced by a tool box, his posters of indie bands suddenly biker memorabilia, but how had he even had time to redecorate, when it seemed like he’d spent all weekend out getting drunk and smoking. Hell, it smelled like he’d even been smoking in the room, while he was gone. He’d already tried talking to the RA, but he’d said that unless he did it in front of him, there wasn’t anything he could do, which meant Doug was on his own. He’d tried to just stay away from the room as long as he could, but maybe he just needed to have a fight with the guy, see if he could sort some this shit out before it got even more out of control…but when he returned to the room that evening, Ralph wasn’t there–thankfully–but the room had somehow grown even more disgusting. It was littered with sex toys, leather gear and who knew what else. Disturbed at what might have been happening, he fled the building and walked around the side, when a nearly familiar voice shouted out his name behind him.
Doug looked over his shoulder–the fattest, filthiest man he’d ever seen was panting after him, beard grown down past his waist, hair nearly as long grown down his back. He had a cigar shoved in the corner of his mouth, and was wearing chaps and a vest over some of the most disgusting clothing he’d ever laid eyes on in his life, and the guy looked like he’d gotten in a fight earlier, from the swollen nose on his face. He didn’t know how he knew it, but it was Ralph–his roommate. Part of his head knew it couldn’t possibly be, but it was, and that uncertainty drove him to walk faster, and then break into a jog.
“Wait! Fucker, I just…come on!” the man behind him shouted. Doug knew he could outrun him. He ccould outrun nearly everyone–hell, his performance in track had helped get him into this school with a scholarship, but what was he doing? He’d been planning on confronting this guy, they needed to hash this shit out before the semester got going, if they were going to live together…right? But why…why was someone like Ralph going to…college? He looked much too old for one thing, from the streaks of grey in his hair and beard, which Doug could see better once he turned around, stopped, and let the fat biker catch up to him.
Ralph reached where he was standing, and then doubled over, trying to catch his breath.
“Be easier if you didn’t smoke that shit.”
“Fuck…Fuck you…” he gasped, “I really don’t need that shit right now, it’s been…a really strange weekend.”
“No fucking shit!” Doug said, “What the fuck are you even doing? Our room’s a fucking sty, and I know you’ve been smoking and drinking in there. What the hell is wrong with you? Classes start tomorrow.”
“I…I know that…” Ralph stood up and bent back, but when he did something slipped from the pocket of his vest and hit the ground in front of Doug’s feet. It was a small box, and when it hit the sidewalk it came apart, a shiny chain landing on the ground, with a lock. Doug…couldn’t look away from it, and he bent down to grab it. Ralph tried to warn him halfheartedly, but didn’t move to stop him. His roommate grabbed it and picked it up, feeling a bit woozy and hot suddenly, his heart racing.
“Fuck, I feel…kind of weird…” Doug said, and Ralph, realizing what was about to happen, guided his collapsing roommate into his arms as he fainted–and he looked around. It would be easiest to get him back to their room–so he hefted his limp, unconscious roommate over his shoulder and started for the dorm, not noticing that somehow the chain had gone from being in Doug’s fist, to being around his neck, with the padlock closed, securing it tight, like a necklace…or perhaps a collar.
Bracken's Corner 