He didn’t seem to mind that he was the only person who came during our three minute romp. By that time the tequila had worn off and the reality of my decisions became clear. I put my pants on casually mentioning how early I had to get up the next day. A lie. It didn’t seem to register. I left the room for some Gatorade and fresh air while I evaluated my life. When I walked back into my bedroom he was still in bed, now lighting a cigarette from my emergency pack nonetheless.
“NOT IN HERE!” I slammed the door. Clearly unfazed by my attempt at intimidation he continued to light MY cigarette. ” I locked myself out, my roommate won’t be home ’til tomorrow,” he exhaled then ashed onto my night stand. “It’s just have to get up early,” I repeated…. Nothing. This was a universally understood, polite hint that he was rudely choosing to ignore. It was at that point that I had accepted he was either going to kill me or kill and eat me.
“I’ll be out by six.”
“Great.” Not great. I already had plans with myself to watch some Shark Week and finish what he stared but no. He clipped the cigarette in my candle. I got into bed and turned on the TV. After five minutes of scrolling we just couldn’t come to a compromise. I gave up unfortunately subjecting myself to Drive Angry.. the classic 2011 Nick Cage film. Five minutes of torture later he was still on the damn phone. For the first time in my life I leaned over praying to see another girls name so I could kick him to the curb but rest assured he was just playing rollercoaster tycoon. Somehow I found it more offensive.
I hit my bong about twelve times but no amount of weed was going to make that movie better or help me sleep next to that psychopath. That night I stayed up til six am watching various Nichols Cage films while a 31 year old man, whose last name I do not know, played video games on his phone.