DAY 119: Roomsie!

Last night I got to hang out with the best roommate in the world. (Or rather, the best roommate in MN… don’t worry Jeffrey, you obviously hold the NY title.) My old roomsie Alisun had taken a last minute, surprise trip to NY, and I got to see her for one night, and one night only.

Roomsie and I were friends in high school, thanks to a cheesy little musical called “The Boyfriend,” in which we played British lovers Nigel and Nellie. Now for anyone who’s ever been lucky enough to experience the show, you probably don’t remember the characters Nigel and Nellie. That’s because we were extras and we made those names up ourselves. But that didn’t stop us from showboating it up in the background, trying to steal the spotlight.

One of our favorite after school activities in high school was to get into my car (the Shitty Chevy) and drive down Grand Ave (a beautiful, tree lined street with giant, Victorian houses) and squirt people with a Super Soaker. One time I was driving and squirting at the same time, and Alice dared me to hit this guy who was dressed in his business suit, driving around, talking on his cellphone. I got him right in his cellphone-free ear and he started chasing us in his SUV. We narrowly escaped death, as I pulled over on to a side street and made everyone in the car get down and duck. Another time Al squirted a cycler, but then his friend on the bike behind him did a sneak attack on us, and doused us with the water from his nalgene bottle. It was better than a mentos commercial.

After high school we went to different colleges and didn’t see each other that much…. Although I do remember one time when she was visiting me at St. Olaf (Um Ya Ya!), and she just happened to have a spare pair of crutches in her trunk. We went around to all the convenience and grocery stores in town and I would pretend to be using the crutches. We set up elaborate scenarios that always involved me falling down. Sometimes she would be there to help me back up, and other times she stand by and snicker as strangers tried to get me back on my feet. The best was when we went into a Tom Thumb gas station where they had just mopped the floor. The manager thought for sure I was gonna sue.

By the time college was over we had lost touch. Until one random night a few years later, when my car had died on Hennipen Ave in downtown Minneapolis and Alisun drove by and saw me. It must have been destiny, because few months later we became roommates.

We had a great apartment in Northeast Minneapolis that was completely furnished with knick-knacks from Salvation Army, and furniture from off the street. Some of my favorite memories of our tenure as roomsies include:

*When we would go out to Starlight, a gay bar/”night club” in our neighborhood on a weeknight. Now, Minneapolis is a pretty happening place. But 11pm on a Tuesday night… not so much. We always had the dancefloor to ourselves. We would harass the DJ to play “Diva” music, to which we would get up on the go-go boy boxes and hoochie dance to. Alice had a crush on the straight(?) bartender and I would take my shirt off and make out with anything that had a mouth. Behold, the powers of alcohol!

*For Halloween that year I waited until the last minute to come up with my costume. Alisun helped me raid her closet and we created the gayest pirate costume ever. I was wearing a white, ruffled shirt; black pants that we made into shorts; argyle socks; an eyeliner goatee; and mardi gras beads. Alisun wrapped a Twister board around her and wore the spinner on her head. We started out at the Gay 90’s and ended the night at a strip club. And since I was wearing Al’s pants, they of course split up the back, half way through the night. I was like a little kid wearing onesies with the backdoor wide open.

*Thrift shopping. We only encouraged each other’s addictions. We lived close to the best Salvation Army ever, and there was one point when we would be there at the very least, five days a week. We always tried to outdo each other too. I would find a large ceramic squirrel with a crazed look in his eyes, and Alice would one up me by buying a casserole dish in the shape of a giant potato. We had a room in our basement that’s sole purpose was for kitsch storage.

*There was one period when we were living together that we were both unemployed for a couple of months. In the mornings I would write and Al would watch Starting Over. We’d then turn on some Crystal Gayle and dance around the house for hours. Or we’d just start drinking at noon, pass out, and then wake up to go out for round two in the evening.

Ah roomsie, what good times we shared! Thanks for the visit…