Just because she's your roommate, doesn't mean she won't leave you to die.

I mean it. Just because you scour the couch for quarters together around the first of every month or eat each others leftover to-go food when it looks delicious and you are out of grocery money does not in fact mean that you have an unbreakable bond or commitment to one another in the case of a real life (non) emergency situation.

Exhibit A: Killer frog on the stairs

When I was a smallish child my mother decided it would be great to play a joke on me involving a frog. It went a little something like this...

Me: Oh look, Mommy, a frog!

My Mother: Maybe you should take a closer look..

Me:*steps closer, foolishly*

My Mother: *startles said frog with her keys making it attack my leg with the viciousness of 12 rabid squirrels*

(There may be a slight exaggeration in how I am remembering this)

Anyways, I don't particularly care for frogs since that fateful day, but I've mostly gotten over the night terrors. Apparently Lindsey isn't too keen on them either because at the first sighting of one on our apartment stairway, she all but threw me in front of her and ran the other way in order to save herself. This was an ordinary frog, mind you, not some Amazonian poisonous dart frog with the ability to steal your soul. I can only imagine what she would do if we encountered one of those. Good thing we will never find out because we couch potatoes are not fans of the Amazon. (Unless its the dot com kind)

Exhibit B: Genetically mutated squirrels on a hot apartment roof

Recently Lindsey and I have been taking walks around our complex, you know, for our health. Also it's when we come up with our best get-rich-quick schemes and blog post ideas. So on our last walking adventure, we were moving along at a good clip, (I was even keeping up with Lindsey and her long legs) when suddenly the building we were walking past was attacked by genetically mutated squirrels. Okay, I don't actually know that they were genetically mutated, but they had to be something special because they made enough noise that we thought the building was falling on our heads. As it turns out no buildings were crumbling and when the theoretical dust had cleared I looked up to see that my roommate, the one I share my salt shaker with, had up and left me for dead. No really, she was literally 17 ft in front of me, running and not looking back. Frankly, I'm just glad she let me back into the apartment.

Exhibit C: Any and all bugs, but specifically Palmetto bugs

If at any time there is a large bug, Lindsey will without a doubt leave me for dead and save herself. This is pretty much a universal rule around our house. Whether the bug is in the kitchen or bathroom, when I hear the shriek and peak around the corner to make sure no one has lost an arm or something, she zooms past me like some kind of road runner and my head spins like poor Wyle E. Coyote. Until the bug is dead and flushed I can basically count on fending for myself. 

I guess in the case of a zombie apocalypse, it's every potato for herself! 

 

Don't worry Lindsey, I still love you :)