When Mini-J, Rose, and I all lived together I ended up with the room that you had to walk through to get to the bathroom. This is how it pretty much went down:
I had been at work when Rose and Mini-J went to look at the place. Mini-J, who has powers far beyond normal and can convince almost anyone of nearly anything called me beside herself with excitement. "The house is perfect! It has hardwood and crown-moulding and ALL the original tile in the bathroom!" (trust me, when you're a renter in this city those things are all what you really, really want). She went on to describe the bedrooms: "So, since I don't like sunlight and I don't have as many clothes as you guys I thought I could take the little basement and turn part of it into the sitting room. Rose can have the big front room because it has so many windows and natural light." (Rose turns into a monster without her sunlight, true story. Often I just don't see her between December and March). I had pretty much figured out how this conversation was going to end from the moment it started. Having found the house and looked at all the pictures online already, we ALL knew that the main bedroom was the only access to the bathroom, so somone was going to be stuck having her bedroom constantly invaded by people who needed to pee, or brush their teeth, shower sex?, get ready for work, puke, etc. This is how Mini-J sold that room to me: "And you can have the room with the ceiling fan and HUGE closest!" (the closest wasn't huge. I mean, I'm sure when that house was built it was obscence but that bitch wasn't even big enough to hold my boots). But yeah, that ceiling fan was pretty sweet.
Since I ended up in the no privacy room, Mini-J, Rose, and constant others were continually invading my room, meaning they pretty much had unrestricted access to my love-life, such as it was. Most people who know me realize that I'm not a very...affectionate person. I mean yeah, when I'm in a relationship with someone I adore I love spending hours in bed snuggled up...but for the life of me, I just don't understand the NEED that so many GUYS have to continually try to spend the night, to cuddle, to hold hands, to nuzzle...ugh. Barf. Mini-J said she would frequently walk into my room at night to get ready for bed and find me curled up in the corner of my bed with no blankets, scowling in my sleep with some dude glued to my side with his finger in my hair. What is that?
I've recently been re-introduced to this practice, and I still basically hate it just as much. I'm sorry, we just met, and you're SORT OF ruining my badass reputation by continually trying to hold my hand. And what's with awkward back pats? I've been getting tons of those lately. If you're going to insist on touching me, at least make it worth my while and give me a massage or something. Geez.
At least this time there isn't an audience for my irritated sighs.
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