AWKWARD college roommate stories – everyone has one. The roommate who never cleans, lets her food go bad and has sex at all times of the day to the point it prevents you from bringing anyone into your room was pretty much what I experienced living on campus.
This summer I was accepted into a four-week study abroad program through my university. Before applying for the month-long stay in Dublin, I made the decision that I would live at home and commute my senior year of college to put money towards the trip. So it makes sense that initially, I thought my years of AWKWARD roommate experiences were over – but I was very wrong.
After landing in Ireland and getting lost on the way to Dublin, my small traveling group finally found our new, temporary home. We filed into the lobby and were greeted by our R.A., Mo, who doled out roommate assignments for the next four weeks. The program’s 15 participants would live among three renovated floors of a historic Georgian-period house.
With the assistance of my two floormates, I brought my luggage to the basement quarters of the house where we were living. I took a tour of my temporary abode and exchanged pleasantries with my two roommates. While talking in their shared room, another girl popped her head in with a handful of holy water and asked if we wanted any. After the three of us in the room said a collective and confused “no,” she laughed and brought the bottles into the kitchen.
This was my first encounter with my new roommate. For anonymity sake, let’s call her “Dot.” I introduced myself to Dot, and recalled seeing her at the study abroad meeting back in March. She was the noticeably older student who asked a plethora of questions and spoke out about everything she had heard from her step dad who was currently visiting Ireland.
Dot was a 31-year-old broadcast journalism major. She had recently walked during the May graduation ceremony, but needed to pass the program’s two courses to complete her undergraduate degree. Self-proclaimed “one of the 31 smartest people in Pennsylvania” (31 was the exact number she gave), and a former corrections officer, Dot was a spitfire with the attack capabilities of a pitbull.
Dot was petite and thin with shoulder-length blonde hair. She had big brown eyes and Chinese symbol tattoos scattered throughout her body. Opinionated and vocal, the group and I would soon realize how outspoken she could actually get – and the holy water was just a small splash in the pool.
While getting ready for our first night out, Dot told me that if need be, she would volunteer to be the one who’d wait up for the roommates to ensure the group’s safety. Dot said she wasn’t trying to be anyone’s mom, but that she couldn’t help but worry since she was roughly 10 years older than most of us. At the time, I thought that was a good and told her I thought that would be a really nice thing to do.
After the first night of barhopping in Dublin, my group of five girls headed back to our apartments. Two of the girls decided to cap off the night by going to a dance club. The two girls had everyone’s cell phone numbers and assured us they could get back safely, so the rest of us walked home and I went to bed. Around 3AM, I awoke to screaming and crying outside on the front steps. I heard Dot yelling at someone, and learned the next day that Dot was furious at us for letting the two girls stay out. Dot had “seen many things” in her life [a phrase she would repeat often throughout the trip] and thought it was reckless to leave them by themselves. Unbeknownst to the incident, the two girls returned safely later that night.
The next day Dot apologized for yelling, but this would be a reoccurrence throughout the trip. I’m sure I haven’t heard about close to half of the arguments she got into with people. I’d just overhear her whispering an apology or see a hand-written “Dear so-and-so, I’m sorry about last night…” letter on her bed, and know that another one of Dot’s uncalled for explosions had recently occurred.
During the first few days in the apartment, Dot had no problem telling me [not asking] “lights out” at midnight and flipping the switch. When I asked if she was done in the bathroom, she’d ask, “Why?” Perhaps it was the corrections officer still in her, but thankfully after a couple of days she stopped with the commands and questions. School became the next issue. Two of my roommates had to share a group computer with her, and the day before assignments were due, Dot would simply take the computer with her wherever she went without telling the others.
One day I was talking to my boyfriend online when I heard Dot walk in with a guy. She was friends with one of the older guys on the trip, so I didn’t think much of it. Then, she led a drunken and nearly stumbling guy into our bedroom. Armed with a bouquet of flowers, Dot introduced me to a man who was no doubt in his forties. I introduced myself out of politeness, and he started making up a song from my name. The man was “a famed music producer” who told me to check out web sites for a list of his credentials. I started outlining the bizarre scene for my boyfriend in AIM, who was freaking out on the other side of the screen. Dot then led the guy to our bathroom so he could take a shower for whatever reason.
Dot poured me a teacup of wine that the man had bought her and thanked me for being so cool about everything. Being the talkative person she is, Dot randomly met the guy on the street. They went to a museum together and had dinner at a nice restaurant. He bought her wine, flowers and a book he was featured in. Dot concluded that nothing was going to happen sexually because he was married with four children, but she invited him back to the apartment because he might have a job offer for her in Ireland. She then ran out of the room and out of the apartment to tell one of the others about her “luck.” Thankfully, my other two roommates were in the apartment and told me they weren’t leaving my side.
After Dot returned and her producer friend was done showering, she led him into the living room to rest before he left. I was busy typing all of the crazy details to my boyfriend, when I heard a loud, “Dude, you have a wife and four kids, I’m not gonna fuck you.” After 10 more awkward minutes, Dot finally escorted the man out.
During our second weekend in Ireland, there was a similar scene to our first night in Dublin. Seven of us occupied a room in a B and B during our trip to Galway, including Dot. After two girls arrived back late from a night out and Dot accused them of being rude and disrespectful since we were technically staying in someone’s house. The girls told her that they hadn’t woken anyone up. In fact, when they had returned, the owners had been awake and in the lobby after going to a late concert. While in the bed next to mine, Dot went on a tirade against my roommates. I woke up scared and alarmed to move for fear she’d yell at me too. After one of the girls told her to “just shut the fuck up,” Dot sprung on the bed and told the girl she would “wrap each finger around her throat” and choke her. By that point, so much had happened with Dot that no one seemed fazed by her remarks.
During a marathon of watching “Sex and the City,” Dot came into the living room where four of us were sitting and flat out told one of the girls she was “irresponsible.” She criticized one of the guys on the trip, complained that the girl she threatened to choke wouldn’t talk to her anymore and helped herself to some of our roommate’s Jameson – all in the same few minutes. She then started randomly spurting out about how many times she had moved when she was little. When I had asked about her life growing up, she said, “Honey, I could write a book.”
Dot had many facets. She often laughed, was very spirited and was someone you could always walk up and talk to. However, when her strong personality and alcohol-infused sides appeared, she was unlikable and avoided by many. During one drunken conversation, she admitted she cried the first week of the trip because she felt like an outsider. She knew that she had good traits, but didn’t seem fully aware of how damaging her other qualities were towards any possible friendships.
During our fourth and final weekend in Dublin, Dot found love. She met him after a Guns N Roses tribute concert she attended [the same night she tried to kiss our teacher.] I awoke Saturday morning to Dot bringing the new guy into our room to introduce us and let him shower. He was handsome and nine years younger than her. He, like the 40-year-old, took her out and paid for everything. A couple of us went out with Dot that night to meet up with him and his friends. For the first time on the trip she talked about the fiancé she broke up with before the trip and let other details slip out about what seemed to be a whirlwind of a life.
For our remaining days in Dublin, Dot and her new boy would lock themselves in the living room and sleep on the couches each night. He’d come in our room to shower and say hello, and the rest of us in the apartment would marvel that we hadn’t been robbed yet. During our “farewell” dinner, Dot and I actually talked a lot. By the last night in Dublin, everyone was too drunk and happy to care about any problems. I said goodbye to Dot and her beau, and gave her a hug goodbye.
I spent my last fleeting hours in Dublin packing for my flight home, all while reflecting on one of the most crazy but unforgettable people I had ever met. Dot – the girl who was engaged three times, got a tattoo on the third day of the trip, bought me a drink or two and sweet-talked a bouncer into letting me get into a club for free.
I jumped into the shower before the bus to the airport arrived, but not before stepping on an open condom wrapper. It was then that I realized I had truly survived the wildest roommate experience of my life.
~Kathleen Garvin
tua31156@temple.edu
Philadelphia, PA
