Living in New York is expensive. It’s not Tokyo or Zurich expensive, but it’s more expensive, than say Lincoln, Nebraska, or Sioux City, Iowa, or wherever Tricia was from. That’s my most charitable guess, anyway. I like thinking this was about money more than thinking about what else this could have been about.
In 1996, I bought an apartment and moved out of the converted one-bedroom I’d shared with a three different roommates over the course of two years. My roommate Tricia, who had only been there for a summer, moved out at the same time. Actually, she mostly moved out before I did, but I guess she was going back and forth a little, picking up a few odds and ends.
After I moved out, she left me three messages complaining that I had accidentally taken a half-roll of paper towels that belonged to her. I hadn’t, in fact, taken it; I had used it to clean up before I left the vacant apartment.
So what do you think I should have done?
- Put a stamp and address on a new roll of paper towels and dropped it in the mail?
- Shoved a few used ones in an envelope and sent it to her?
- Sent her one paper towel a day for the next month?
I wonder whether she’s writing a blog somewhere about an ex-roommate who callously used other people’s paper towels.
I don’t even know how I ended up here, but I thought this post was good. I do not know who you are but certainly you are going to a famous blogger if you aren’t already 😉 Cheers!