The days approaching your freshman year of college are an exciting time for anyone. However that is not to say they are without worry. Everyone has fears about the “big transition.” “Is the work going to be hard?” “Am I in good classes?” “Will I make friends?” I can’t, however, imagine that any of these fears quite add up to the prospect of being forced to live with a truly terrible roommate.  Like I was.

            For security reasons I have chosen to disclose my new roommate’s real name, so for the purpose of this piece were going to call him “Lyle.” Given that he did not have a Facebook (which I found a bit strange in this day and age) I knew very little about Lyle going in to the first semester. I had to go on whatever I could pick up from his few texts.  I knew that he came from a small town, played banjo, and the only appliances he planned on bringing were a teakettle, and a Nintendo 64 (released only four years after I was Born). For a good while I did not know what to make of him, but over the next few months I would get a pretty clear Idea that living in a small space with this kid is not the best of situations.

            Just to clarify Lyle is not a mean or bad person. In fact in most cases he can be pretty nice. I just find him to be an incredible character, and I think some of his stories are worth sharing with the world. But again, love or hate Lyle, he is not the kind of guy you want share a bunk bed with.