I (18F) have been getting some heat over a recent situation with my roommate (18F), but I think I’ve been nothing but reasonable. When I met my roommate this fall, I thought it was a match made in heaven, and as the weeks went on, we grew closer and closer. We started hanging out, shopping, getting boba, and going to the city, but without Daddy’s credit card, living together was starting to become a little pricey for me. So, as all the on-campus jobs filled up, I decided to start a side hustle to support the spending problem.
The idea came to me when my roommate’s field hockey team had an away game at Rhodes College in Tennessee. She told me she’d be gone for a couple of days, which made me sad at first, until I realized what an incredible opportunity it actually was. A room all to myself! These days, finding housing is nearly impossible, especially around major cities. And everything’s so expensive! That’s why, when I listed my cozy, boho, dark academia aesthetic room with access to Boston on Airbnb, the people could not get enough of it. Charging just $50 a night, the cash came rolling in. I would sleep in the common room and stare at my bank account as my tuition practically made itself. It was a perfect arrangement, that is, until my roommate came back. The rest of her games were nearby, so it felt like she would just never leave the room. I started doing everything I could to keep her away overnight—I encouraged her to visit her family back at home, I made a Hinge profile for her in hopes that she’d match with some eager Babson guy and spend the night there, and when she didn’t want to sleep with Chad/Brad/Jake/Joshua, I even helped by adding a little something special to her drinks so that she’d remember how she has it good with him and return from a frat in the morning with a more positive outlook on life.
I thought I could keep this up for a while, but the signs started to become really obvious. I could explain away a random sock on her side of the room (oops! must’ve fallen out of my laundry bag!) or the occasional hair on her pillow (must’ve floated in through the window or something!), but when she came home early to the family of five playing Go Fish on her twin XL, I knew the jig was up. Instead of thanking me or being proud of my entrepreneurial spirit, she seemed really angry. When I explained to her that my tenants were all extremely clean, they were only around when she wasn’t there, and I even had the courtesy to turn all her stuffed animals around so they didn’t have to watch strangers have sex on her bed, she somehow got even angrier. Honestly, I’m just disappointed that she has so little respect for young women in business. Not everyone has Daddy’s credit card, I’m an entrepreneur, and it’s sad for her that she can’t see that. So tell me, Wellesley, am I the asshole?
