Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Excuse me, could you possible try to chew your food with your mouth a little less open, please?
I just had a lovely conversation with my roommate. I was sitting at my desk, reading my sociology book in studious solitude. He walks in and announces his presence by opening up a bag of cheez-its and engulfing them as loudly as possible. I’ve never been mad at someone for eating food before. This 19 year-old was chewing with his mouth open like a little kid. But I guess I can’t be too mad at him for that because I used to chew with my mouth open… When I was 7.
I thought I could put up with it. It wouldn’t last too long. I mean, no one eats cheez-its for an extended period of time. However, I guess cheez-its was his lunch because he was eating them endlessly.
I was not planning on saying anything to him; no one wants to tell someone as old as a college freshman how to eat their food. However, in my desperation, I had to speak up-
“Hey man, do you think you could close your mouth when you eat?” I asked in a polite, yet business-like tone.
He aggresively responded, “HECK NO!” What could have provoked that response? Maybe he misheard my request; I do mumble and slur my words a lot. “Do you think you could close your mouth when you eat?” could easily be misinterpreted as, “Do you think you could pose as a moth with two feet?” That would seem like an unusual request, but surely anyone would respond with “HECK NO!”
I doubted that he misheard me because I was certain I had spoken clearly, therefore, my frustration with him was justified. My retort to his foul mouth was the most mature thing that any logical person could do- turn my music up to full volume and listen to his least favorite band. That would show him not to disrespect me, and it might drown out the noise of chewing.
My tactics were ineffective. As I cranked up the volume on my speakers, he cranked up the volume on his cheez-its. He searched the box to find a handful of the crunchiest cheese-its of all. He took a swig of water, to make sure that chewing them would make a resounding, especially grotesque, noise loud enough to overpower my speakers.
I felt that if I had said anything, It would not register with him. After responding unhelpful and rude to my simple, polite, request, I learned that he is not capable of listening to others. I could have taken a more mature approach than listening to really loud music, but that would require talking to him. And I don’t think that it would be practical to talk to him; he has already shown defiance toward mature discussions.
Be leery not to offend me. I will retaliate by writing a blog about you that you will never read.
Some people say that bad roommates at least give you good stories. This brings me to the moral of this story. I would rather have good roommates than good stories.