We met on the Facebook market. After a brief call facetime, we were locked up.
The night he moved was a disaster. He arrived an hour before, so I was surprised to see her on the entrance path. She is beautiful, I thought. Oh.
“I'm Jack,” I nervously drowned with my new roommate, Kaitlyn.
After some jokes, I explained that I could not avoid with his mobile boxes because he was about to carry out a highly sensitive commercial transaction.
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, 10, 1,000.” The buyer, a type of heavy set, repeated this again and again when the cash spilled on the table. Kaitlyn and his mother lamented around us with boxes, increasingly uncomfortable by the show.
I was selling a car that had arbitrated to rent in Turo, which turned out to be a bad investment. I found a buyer (also on Facebook) who insisted on paying in cash.
Kaitlyn's mother opened the fridge.
“Don't worry,” I shouted. “I will make space in a second.” Back to striker, each shelf, side shelf and drawer filled with beer. I put a big travel party for my former roommate, but I did not anticipate how small the participation would be.
I looked to find the mother looking at the abyss of the refrigerator, experiencing some premonition of what fate was about to happen to her daughter.
“Very good, that's 35,000.” We set our hands, and the buyer was shocked. I turned around to find Kaitlyn and his mother looking at fear. When reading the tension in the room, I told them: “Don't worry. I will get out of hair soon. I have a blind appointment with a girl in a vegan place in Weho.”
Kaitlyn and his mother turned, shocked. Later I knew that this was the time they learned that it was not gay. (Apparently, the Aro Arete in my Facebook profile photo gave them the incorrect idea).
My roommate stood up in the awkward corner, hoping that his mother says something like: “Pack your things. We are taking out the f— From here.”
After a moment, the mother looked at me and asked: “What are you going to do with cash?” I hadn't thought so far. “Deposit it?” I said.
“You cannot deposit more than $ 10,000 in a period of two weeks. To be sure, do not make more than $ 3,000 per day,” he explained.
Phew. For some miracle, they were not running through the hills. Kaitlyn's mother was an immigrant of Vietnam, disheveled and apparently well versed in the subtleties of the IR cash deposit policy. I was surprisingly impressed by my Turo scheme.
Later that night, my new roommate and I sat on the couch and talked. She told me that I had initially planned to move to Los Angeles due to a boyfriend. When the relationship ended, he thought he could still use the change of stage. In turn, I explained that I had never had a serious or in love before. We learned that we had much in common: we were both Canadians and we were in love without cheez-ps complexes; We had similar points of view on faith and morals.
At that time, the cash stack had migrated to the coffee table. All consolidated, was about 10 inches. “Do you want to hold it?” I asked.
“A little of,” he said. Turnados holding the cash, I showed a montage of YouTube from the sketches “Oh, Hello” by John Mulaney and John Mulaney. We spent a lot of time laughing that night.
A couple of weeks later, we decided to foster two puppies, which we call Hallie and Annie after “The Parent Trap” twins. We coordinate to ensure that they were well attended, while we created our own quality time as the occasional film night.
“Are you married!” My work friend told me after explaining my life situation. Listen to it say that caused a realization within me. Are we married? I reflected.
The tides of love threw themselves forward in the form of a press release: Cheez-Ime emerge in Joshua Tree. We were on the same page. With just one day before closing, we packed our bags and go to the road for the desert.
We were late to Airbnb, but we had time to sit in the hammock outside and see the stars for a while. There was only one bed, so we agreed to create a pillow wall. When I woke up the next morning, she was on the couch.
Cheez-T was wonderful experience. We buy matching t -shirts and supply a lot of snacks and paraphernalia. There was a massive effigy of a cheez-n cowboy outside.
A couple asked us to take a photo of them standing between the cowboy legs and we force him. “Do you want us to get one of you?” The woman asked. “Yeah!” We pose under the statue. “Cheeeez-Issss,” we said smiling.
“Now kisses!” The woman said. We exchange mortified looks.
“Oh, no. It's not so. We're just friends,” Kaitlyn said.
“Yes, disgusting, I would never do it!” I replied. On the way home, a silent contemplation possessed the car. Finally, my roommate turned and asked: “You don't really think it would be so horrible to go out with me, right?”
I had oversized my feigned disgust. “What? Of course not.”
They followed a few more silence before I could no longer resist my pick-me compulsions. “And you don't think it would be so horrible to go out with me, right?”
“No,” he said with a slight smile.
I spent that summer in my family's house on the east coast, and she came to visit me. I showed it around Boston and Cape Cod. The tension was brewing among us, but I was terrified to address and desecrate our sacred Platonic link as roommates.
The brushing of arms and other forms of subtle flirting finally reached a launch too high to ignore, but I ignored it anyway. I was frustrated by my lack of intentionality and said I would prefer to go home before my whole family arrived the next day.
Beyond the standard limits of the roommate, I think I was only afraid that I did not feel the same as I did. He was terrified of being rejected, especially when I had his captive so far from home.
When I realized that I was too chicken, Kaitlyn took the reins and admitted his feelings. Terce followed his example and then experienced a level of joy that he had never had before. I was in love.
The next day, he met my parents, nine brothers, grandparents, aunts and uncles. At that time, we were not officers, so, as it seemed unlikely, we continued the trip under the appearance of friendship. None of my family bought it, and blatantly referred to her as my girlfriend all the time.
He got along with them, which made me feel much closer to her and my family. We were increasing something.
At the end of the week, Kaitlyn returned to Los Angeles to pack their things and officially move so we could explore something bigger. Now we have been together and in love for almost two years and we strengthen ourselves.
The author is a screenwriter based in Los Angeles. It is the largest of 10 and is a dengue fever survivor. Is on Instagram: @Jackmstar
Los Angeles Affairs Chronices The search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the Los Angeles area, and we want to listen to their real history. We pay $ 400 for a published essay. Email [email protected]. You can find presentation guidelines here. You can find past columns here.
