Okay, now, if Lucy had simply done this, everyone would've believed she'd been to Narnia, Peter wouldn't have questioned her sanity, Edward wouldn't've betrayed them to the White Witch, and JESUS WOULDN'T HAVE DIED!!!!

The Train

Sometimes in the morning when the Roommate Formerly Known as The Candy Formerly Known as Eye and I get on the train, we sit in seats that face each other. My seat faces all the forward facing seats in the car, and as I gaze upon the faces of the people, I feel compelled to give a speech, something that starts off with “My loyal subjects . . .”

The decrees I would make would be petty – “Peon 5 to Seat 12” and “Metra Man, fuck me” – and a clear abuse of my power, but I am sure that given enough time, the people would grow to love me, their benevolent ruler.

Ah, if only.

And here's how our conversation trails off as we walk into the office:

Him: No way! I say modified deli slicer is the way to go.
Me: And I say guillotine.

Good times.

In the Bathroom in the Morning

Both parties are brushing their teeth. The Roommate Formerly Known as the Candy Formerly Known as Eye choked slightly on his toothpaste, making a funny sound. I laughed through my toothpaste-filled mouth.

He spat. "Hey," he said. "I'm not like you. My gag reflex hasn't been deadened."

Zing.

When tiny Mexican grandmothers bring you rice and beans and salsa and chicken and tortillas and a lime, just because you always work late and because your roommate is Hispanic, it doesn't matter that you aren't too keen on either Mexican food or hugging; you are bound by law to hug her and choke it down.

That's just the law.