We sat our are little tiled table. We were talking about super powers as the snow flurried down past our window. Telekinetic powers! Mind reading powers! Teleporting powers!
“I would definitely like telekinetic powers,” my British roommate nodded, “I would use it just for the little things, like to move a person’s coffee mug a few inches when they reached for it just to drive them mad.”
My other roommate wanted to read people’s minds.
“That’s a bit invasive,” I told him.
“I know,” he smiled.
“Well,” I started, “I would definitely choose the power to teleport. I could go anywhere, anytime. No one and nothing could stop me.”
“Then you could also drive people mad," Josh offered, "Pop in while someone is showering, but only for a split second, so they’re not sure if they just imagined you in their shower while they were naked or if you were actually there.”
My roommates are of the very mischievous kind.
I brought up He Who Shall Not Be Named…Okay, I brought up Merrick. My roommates rolled their eyes and gave me over dramatic sighs. They told me it was time. Josh placed a jar onto the table.
“Every time you mention that boy from Utah, you drop a quarter into the jar.”
“But…That’s not fair. I—” I looked to Laedan for support.
Laedan only nodded approvingly with Josh.
“Nope. No. More. Merrick. We’ve been good listeners. We get it. He’s a good guy, but now it’s time to move on.”
“But I still…Merrick—”
“That’s it! That’s a quarter.”
I sighed, reached into my pocket, and dropped the first 25 cents into the Merrick Jar. (I wonder if this post will count as 25 cents?)
After the Merrick Jar rules were established, we laughed and talked about meeting our potential significant others by pure chance all while Disney’s Tarzan was playing in the background (Laedan has this great ability to choose the perfect movie to watch while hanging out). When we realized it was almost two in the morning, all three of us got up and walked to our bathroom—conveniently located right near the kitchen, you know, New York style. I reached under the sink, an arm reached over. Within seconds, we were all brushing away at our teeth. Some dirty comments and jokes were made about a roommate’s electric toothbrush and then we all turned in for the night.
I lied in my bed with my eyes open. My room is connected to Josh’s and he has agreed to leave the door open upon my request—or maybe it was mutual agreement, I can’t remember. I like listening to him type away or seeing the glow of his lamp while he is reading. It makes me feel safe.
“Goodnight,” I heard from my Mexican roommate.
“Goodnight,” said my my British roommate.
“Goodnight,” I chimed in adding my half-Korean voice to the mix of voices.
Tonight had only been dried fruits, Tarzan, super power talk, and some tooth brushing, so simple and uneventful, but I felt happy. I felt like I had finally found people who asked about how my day was and cared about my answer. I felt that if I came home one day and exclaimed, “I hate a man named Tommy Jones,” my two roommates would look at one another for a second and then nod and say together, “And we hate him too!…Now who is he and why do we hate him?”
Right before falling asleep, I realized that even if I didn’t find my dream job or the love of my life in New York City for the rest of the time I was here, I had found friends… And maybe that’s exactly what I had needed all along. Maybe that was enough.