How to Get Rid of a Roommate in 24 Hours or Less

Anyone living in New York City knows that renting an apartment is far from reasonable in cost. Therefore, adult roommates are not uncommon. Neither are horror stories of roommate-living experiences. I have one involving some stolen theater tickets that culminated in the roommate and his entire family's extraction from the Apollo Theater, but that is not what this is about.

My current roommate and I were in a bit of a tiff and she decided that she would be moving out at the end of October. As two grown women, there was nothing left to be said. No, I won't tell you what the row was about. You nosey thing, you! The past two weeks have found the two of us conducting business as usual. No eye rolling, mumbling, or devious behavior…we've simply been going through the motions of exchanging obligatory pleasantries.

A funny thing happened last night that silently shattered that peace. Too lazy to go out for some much needed sustenance and too unenamored with the offerings of the neighborhood deliver services (well, mostly with their preferred payment methods), I decided to cook. After preparing my meal and eating, I discarded a small amount of the leftovers in the toilet. Not paying attention, I went in the bathroom and flipped the commode lid open without turning on the light – and performed a 'dump and flush'. I spent the rest of the evening being fabulously fabulous. As was her custom, my roommate came in close to midnight and took a shower.

At approximately three in the morning, I decided to evacuate my bladder of all the Pepsi I had consumed. After opening the seat cover, I almost lost my tilapia. But, I quickly realized that the mess I was seeing was not the mess that I initially thought the mess was. It was a mess of a mess, but not that kind of a mess…it was a 'dump and flush' mess.

Well, tonight, I was sufficiently surprised when I heard the key in the door at nine and my roommate entering with a man. She was leaving at that exact moment and, I couldn't help but feel like what she thought she saw was the cause. The look on her face as she left the key told me all I needed to know. I feel as if I'll burn in the hellfires for all of eternity and a half for that unintended bit of mischief. However, I choose to take away the lesson that honest communication leaves little room for misunderstanding…or embarrassment.

Eclectically Yours in NYC
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