(I’m cleaning up after a cat incident, letting out harsh, barking coughs every few seconds. After a few minutes of this, my housemate sticks her head out her door in concern.)

Housemate: “You okay? What happened?”

Me: “[Cat] caught a bird. It wasn’t hurt, so I let it go outside, but it lost a lot of feathers.”

Housemate: “Aren’t you allergic to feathers?”

Me: “EXTREMELY.”

My roommate has started sleepwalking at night when she gets stressed. We started calling the sleeping persona Sleeping Roommate, and Sleeping Roommate is not very polite. She has entered other rooms to stare at us while we sleep, and slapped herself awake more than once. 

One night while I’m in the living room/kitchen area studying, Sleeping Roommate enters the kitchen, looks me in the eye, and puts her glasses in the refrigerator. Then she says, “This is really gonna piss me off in the morning.” 

Surprise: it does.

(I have two roommates, one of whom is totally grounded and a bit cynical — [Roomie #1] — and one of whom… clearly didn’t get much of a financial education growing up — [Roomie #2]. She’s not terrible with money in general, but there’s a lot about finances and even basic things like common marketing techniques that she’s only catching onto now that she’s on her own. One day, she brings in a huge stack of mail.)

Roomie #2: *starts going through the stack with an annoyed groan* “What do all of these people want?!”

Roomie #1: “Money.”

Roomie #2: “Ha. They’re not all bills.”

Roomie #1: “Doesn’t matter. They still want your money.”

Roomie #2: “Come on. Not every piece of mail can be about money. Some letters from the bank are for credit card offers and such.”

Roomie #1: “So you’ll open an account and spend money.”

Roomie #2: “There’s an ad for a show at the theater.”

Roomie #1: “So you’ll buy tickets.”

Roomie #2: “There are some coupons.”

Roomie #1: “So you’ll spend money at those stores.”

Roomie #2: “Right… but… you need groceries anyway, so…”

Roomie #1: “Still getting you to spend money. Do you normally shop at those stores, and for the things they’re advertising?”

Roomie #2: “I mean… maybe a couple. Look, here’s a letter from your university!”

Roomie #1: “For alumni?”

Roomie #2: “Yeah!”

Roomie #1: “They want a donation.”

Roomie #2: “Well… Here, I got a perfectly lovely letter from a charity.”

Roomie #1: “They want a donation.”

Roomie #2: “At least it’s for a good cause!”

Roomie #1: “And yet my point still stands. What they care about is getting your money. Besides, how much do you really know about this charity?”

(There’s a pause. [Roomie #2] is clearly trying to come up with an argument. [Roomie #1] looks her square in the eye.)

Roomie #1: “Honey, unless it’s from someone you personally know, you will never get a single piece of mail that isn’t after your wallet, including wedding invitations.”

Roomie #2: “Wedding…?”

Roomie #1: “Have you ever shown up to a wedding without a gift? Ever been in a bridal party?”

([Roomie #2] slowly looked back down at the giant pile of mail, and we could see her mind being blown. She was a bit sad after that, having realized that no one will ever send her a letter without trying to get something out of her, or at least without strings attached. It made me a bit sad, too, but I think now she’ll be safer from unnecessary spending and possible scams.)

(My freshman year of college, my roommate is an aviation major. During the fall semester, when she’s not allowed to fly, I’m helping her memorize all the checklists. She finds out that I’ve never flown in an airplane before and vows to fix that. Sure enough, in the spring semester, she starts flying and will not relent in her quest to get me to go with her. I eventually agree to go with her to get her to stop begging me. One Saturday morning, we get up early and get ready. She tells me that it’s a very good day to fly because there’s not a lot of wind. We catch the bus to the airport, and she’s excited that I’m going to get to see her in action. At the airport, I meet her flight instructor, I sign the paperwork, and we go out to the tarmac. I’m extremely nervous the whole time. Eventually, we’re all buckled in and take off. It should be noted that I have a fear of heights. Every single time she makes a turn, I feel the g-force on my body and I whimper. I am not enjoying myself at all. Then this happens.)

Instructor: “Okay, [Roommate], pick a crash field.”

Roommate: “Okay… I got one.”

Instructor: “All right, now stall the engine.”

Me: “Huh?”

Roommate: “You got it.”

(She then proceeds to point the nose of the plane up until the engine stalls out and goes silent. The aircraft starts to fall. A few seconds later, when it’s level again, the engine starts back up and we are bounced around for a little bit.)

Instructor: “Not bad. What did you think, [My Name]?”

(I have flung my arms and legs out to try and grab anything to hold onto. It takes me a moment to realize it’s safe to move. I slowly curl up into a ball.)

Me: “I… Don’t…”

Instructor: “I don’t think we should do any more stalls today.”

Roommate: *disappointed* “Oh, fine.”

(I am too freaked out still to talk. I end up looking at the bar that’s attached to the wheel the rest of the trip, not saying a word, and still whimpering at the slightest movement. Until I’m back on the ground, I pray to God to let us safely land very soon. Eventually, we do land, and I bolt out of the thing. I wait for my roommate and her instructor to finish up their post-flight checklists. When they do, my roommate comes over to me.)

Roommate: “So, my lesson isn’t over yet. We’re about to go up again. Want to go again? We aren’t going to stall the engine again. It’s probably just going to be taking off and landing over and over again.”

Me: “No!”

Roommate: “But–”

Me: “No! No, no, no! I’m never getting in that thing again!”

Roommate: *slightly hurt that I don’t love flying* “Okay, I guess. You’ll have to wait in the lounge, then. There’s no one here now since it’s Saturday. You’ll be all alone. And we’ll be at least an hour.”

Me: “Is there Wi-Fi?”

Roommate: “Yes?”

Me: “I’ll be fine.”

(I had my laptop with me since I was going to meet up with some friends to study for a test right after. I sat in the lounge and studied while also messaging my mom and telling her how my roommate tried to kill me.)

(I have just moved into a three-bedroom house with two other people. I am sitting on the couch in the living room when I notice [Roommate], whom I met in college, just going up and down the stairs. She can be a little eclectic at times, so I don’t pay it any mind. Our other roommate is my sister.)

Sister: “Hey, [Roommate], are you okay?”

Roommate: *obviously confused* “I think we need to call the landlord now.”

Sister: “What’s wrong?”

Roommate: “The AC doesn’t work; it’s hotter upstairs than down here.”

Me: “The air isn’t on.”

Sister: “Yeah, and all the windows upstairs are closed, and you know, heat rises.” *shrugs*

(I don’t remember the specific field, but [Roommate] has a degree in a science field.)

Roommate: “No, it doesn’t. What did your parents teach you? That’s so dumb that you believe that.”

(My sister tried to reason with her, I went back to my book, and she walked away confused by how “dumb” we are.)