That awkward moment when I get a snapchat from my roommate Connor saying he wishes I was there accompanied by a picture of our apartment.
Then, that awkward moment when I get a second snapchat moments later saying it was sent to the wrong person.
No worries Connor, I totally knew that was meant for someone else. It’s not like I actually thought you might want me to be at our apartment hangin out together. Nope, didn’t think that at all.
That awkward moment when I give my phone number to a guy who started staring at his sneakers and whose volume dropped to a whisper as he asked.
Then, that awkward moment when I have to keep making excuses to not go out with him because I am a disgusting human being incapable of bluntly rejecting someone.
No really does mean no…not that I would know…ya know?
That awkward moment when I volunteer for a shift at work I have no desire to work or actual intention of working.
Then, that awkward moment when I have to explain to my boss that my volunteering was just a momentary lapse of judgement.
Or a ruse to make him think I am actually a good employee…Psych!
All are messages that were not meant to be sent. Maybe communication really is key.
So, the other day, I walk in to my roommate Connor’s room and see a couple new picture frames sitting by his window.
Naturally, I am intrigued.
I casually walk closer to see exactly who Connor deemed important enough to inhabit these cheap, good-for nothing picture frames. What did I see you ask?
Well, behind picture frame #1 : Connor and the Fire Whisperer
To me, this says… I’m a casual guy. I feel confident in my manhood and am not afraid to have a picture of me and my same-sex bestie for the world to see. Adam and Steve..Adam and Eve who cares? Fuck, he’s like my brother.
Then, behind picture frame #2: Connor, the Fire Whisperer (again *gasp*), and his newest old love interest (his ex and maybe new girlfriend) who we will now call Old Flame. I’m not sure where I got my obsession with fire …since I’m an aquarius, a fucking water sign but whatever. I digress.
To me, this says…This girl is on my mind. I want to let her back into my life, but I need to know I can trust her. Good thing the Fire Whisperer has my back. I don’t want her to think she has won me back over quite yet. I’m still a man. Bros before hoes ya know?
While the pictures were sending all the right messages, I could not help but notice the absence of one message that I had been searching for. If the message comes in a bottle I won’t be disappointed ya feel me?
Me: Connor, it seems like there is a picture missing here.
Connor: What do you mean?
Me: You know, like a certain someone is missing from these pictures.
Connor: My mom?
Connor: My dad?
Me: Still no.
Connor: My sister?
Me: Close but no cigar. Speaking of cigars, WHERE THE FUCK IS MY PICTURE?
He sort of laughed, which I obviously did not find funny. Who needs a million pictures of his bromance and an old flame when he’s got his lame pun-making, solid rent-paying, funny blog-posting roommate?
I quickly cleared up a space for a third picture frame because a pair of picture frames just looks downright awkward anyway. Every interior designer knows that frames come in three’s! Behold the power of three… Three’s company. Three is a charm. Three is the number of times my mom has been married.
Then came the task of selecting which picture of us should be framed.
Let’s see, there is the one where I forced you to take a picture with me at the pub and you are making this awful I was forced into this face. Ooh, or there is the one we took right after that where you are actually smiling, but the sentiment of you not wanting to take the picture still lingers.
Wait, how about that one we took together at your friend’s wedding that I begged you to take me to as your plus-one because I wasn’t invited. Not all that different from the I was forced into this face but hey.
Oh, I’ve got it! The one we took at the bar 8 months ago the night I cried to you about my never boyfriend…not all that different from last week.
Lots of great ones to choose from.
It all suddenly makes sense why Connor has no picture of us by his window. There is now a small window of time for me to get a new picture of us…get it? Window? Fuck.
After perusing Connor’s photos and reliving our experiences together, I started to wonder if Connor and I were just roommates and not actually friends.
Who exactly does he think he is? I have all the friendmate/roomend potential in the world. Don’t believe me?
Connor needs love advice: I will get out the dating flash cards, white board, and will go all the way to Saudi Arabia, though I’m not sure what good that would do.
Connor is hungry but broke: I will work my corner, make us some quick cash and take that motherfucker to Buffalo Wild Wings the very next day. I meant my corner office.
Connor needs a ride to work: I will hop in my silver four-door car, hand that fool the keys and ride with him to fucking work five minutes early.
What does a girl have to do to fucking prove I deserve a picture frame god damn it?
As you can see, I have been a little on edge lately. Why?
1. There was a spricket in the only working stall in the bathroom at work. I did not like that. I did not like that one bit.
2. My showers are cold because our hot water is turned off. Our landlord told us our apartment was all electric, but we actually have an imaginary gas bill we never received. Anyone have a good lawyer because I’m ready to put him in some fucking metaphorical hot water.
3. I am broke. I will take a corner office…hold the office if you know what I’m saying.
It has been a busy few weeks with no speed bumps, spike strips or any other signs of slowing down. But, you know what would make it better?
It starts with a picture and ends in frame.
You know what else could start with the word picture and end in the word frame? A fucking comment. Leave one.