I want my own apartment, just so i can have an apartment mate.
We will have this special tacit connection. part of it stemming from the mutual understanding that we are both young bachelors that are striving to live life independently, making their mark on the world, but not having the actual stable income to do so.
The other part is the mutual understanding that though we live in the same apartment, we don’t actually have to cross paths to acknowledge each other’s existence. Let the occasional note in the kitchen to get more milk, or the slightly damp toilet floor speak for itself.
He should be preferably someone of a different descent. So that he’ll be the cool average white roommate that occasionally brings a chick around, and i’ll be the quiet, but dependable asian kid next door who has pretty good taste in music and kicks ass on his Playstation from time to time.
He’ll be Kirk, and I’ll be Sulu, and thats ok, cause we’re racially diverse, we do our own thing, and we’re cool like that.
And occasionally when there’s something good on tv, we’ll both pop a beer each, sit a reasonable distance from each other from the couch and give a top down critique on how great a film Starship Troopers actually is. The conversation will veer into philosphy, society religion, the fine arts, how annoying our moms are, and eventually, we’ll end it with a laugh, forget each other’s names and return back to our respective rooms.
And tomorrow I’ll find the kitchen sink clean, and a note that says ” I got your dishes covered this time bro”.
And then I’ll know its my turn to buy the milk.