Roommate Roast

Living with a roommate can be hard sometimes. I’m sure many of you all are aware of this by now. It has its ups, but it definitely has its downs. We thought it would be fun (and trust us it was) to let you all know what we absolutely can’t stand about each other. So, without further ado, let the Roommate Roast begin.

From Bradford’s Perspective:

I’ve been living with Austin for around 3 years now, and it’s safe to say that I’ve become well-accustomed to his flukes and flaws over these years. With that being said, I figured it’s time you all come to know the messier side of my roommate. Brace yourself.

The biggest problem with Austin is peanut butter. He’s addicted (a problem in itself), but it’s not his nutty addiction that I find a nuisance. It’s the peanut butter combined with Austin’s tendency to not do dishes. Imagine this: you come home from class to find a mound of dishes in the sink. You put on a brave face and tackle the chore, rolling your eyes in disgust the whole time. Just as you’re in the home stretch, you find it. There, at the bottom of the sink, staring you straight in the face is a knife, a plate, maybe a smoothie cup smothered in peanut butter. You cringe. You gag. You throw your hands up in defeat. After a long-winded self-pep talk, you pick it up and scrub wholeheartedly until it’s clean and ready to put in the dishwasher. You’re scrubbing for what feels like days to get this hardened, stubborn peanut butter off a knife you didn’t use and you’re trying not to throw up. This is the final straw, you tell yourself. I can only introduce Austin to the dish brush and dishwasher (not to mention the broom, the vacuum and several other cleaning-related items) so many times. You decide it’s time to move out. You go to pack your bags.

You can’t pack your bags. Why? Because scattered all over the apartment are Austin’s shoes. You can’t make it to the hallway without jumping over five pairs of sneakers. You’re stuck. There’s no way out. Is this what hell feels like? Me trapped in a room full of Austin’s peanut butter eating utensils and Chelsea boots? You clean them up. It takes forever. You set them in Austin’s room, right by the door. A subtle message: THELIVINGROOMFLOORISNOTASHOERACK THELIVINGROOMFLOORISNOTASHOERACK THELIVINGROOMFLOORISNOTASHOERACK.

Are you starting to see why Austin is actually the worst roommate ever? If not, don’t worry. There’s more. Here is a short list:

  • The snoring. Sophomore year, I used to have to throw textbooks on the ground from my bed on the top bunk to wake him up.
  • The singing. Sometimes I will be mid-sentence talking and Austin will just start singing. I will have to wait until he’s done singing before I can resume talking again. He will make direct, uncomfortable eye contact until he is done singing.
  • The fast food. Almost every night he says either “I want Taco Bell” or “I could really go for some ice cream right now.” Next thing you know, I’m in a car headed to get fast food or dessert, despite my goal to eat as healthy as possible. WHY MUST HE BE SUCH A BAD INFLUENCE?

Now that I’ve officially ranted my brains out, I’d just like to point out that at, the end of the day, despite all his flaws, there’s no one else I’d rather be my roommate. We have our differences occasionally, but we understand that’s just the way it goes sometimes.

From Austin’s Perspective:

I’ll start by saying that living with Bradford for the past three years has been great, and he is undoubtedly one of my closest friends. But since this is Roommate Roast, we’re here to highlight the things he does that make me insane. So grab your popcorn and get comfortable.

On weekdays, Bradford has to be at work at 8 in the morning, which means he wakes up at 6:30 to begin his very specific morning routine. In the process of making coffee, fixing his hair, and walking back and forth past my room countless times, he tends to be loud. Very loud. As in wakes-me-up-everyday-at-6:30 loud. Trust me, getting woken up 2 hours before you need to start getting ready can be quite infuriating.

Sometimes when I get woken up early by my lovely roommate, I decide to be productive and get some laundry done. I get all my clothes sorted out, and take the first one to put in the washer. Oh wait. I can’t. Bradford, once again, left his clothes in the washer. To sit there. And get smelly and musty. Isn’t that just great? But it’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll just wrinkle release my shirt in the dryer. No big deal. But then I open the dryer to find…take a guess….MORE OF BRADFORD’S CLOTHES. Keep in mind, it has been a couple days since Bradford did laundry, and his clothes are still in BOTH the washer and dryer. *sigh*

So as you can see, Bradford does some things that make me want to throw all his stuff out the window. Here are a couple more things you can add to the list:

  • The aftermath of Bradford frantically trying to get to work on time. In his almost everyday failing attempts to be punctual, he leaves the apartment with cabinets open, half-full coffee mugs in random places, and lights on everywhere. He even leaves the freezer open on occasion. THE FREEZER.
  • Netflix shows. We have a TV in the living room of our apartment, and Bradford and I tend to watch a couple of the same shows. This is fine, until Bradford falls six seasons behind and I have to search and search to find the episode that I was on after one of his binge watching sessions. This may not seem like a big deal, but after a few times it can become a nuisance.
  • He holds the world record for smallest bladder of any living creature. Let’s say that Bradford and I were planning to leave the apartment in 30 minutes. We start getting ready, and after brushing his teeth, Bradford has to pee. Then he changes clothes, and has to pee again. Now I’m waiting the usual 15 minutes for him to be ready (surprisingly I get ready faster than him). At last, he walks into the kitchen and says he’s ready to leave. So we open the door and as I step into the hallway, I hear those six words. “Oh wait, I have to pee.” Deep breaths, Austin, deep breaths.

Despite all of Bradford’s frustrating habits, like I said at the beginning, he’s been a great roommate and we’ve made so many memories throughout our three years living together.

Are there certain things your roommate does that drives you crazy? Let us know in the comments!


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