No welcome for rats, only housemates

I love where I live. I enjoy talking at length about my charming house in South Oakland and… I love where I live. I enjoy talking at length about my charming house in South Oakland and the unheated dungeon in the basement that I sleep in. My home for eight months out of the year is overflowing with character. It has its own mysterious noises, sweet, sweet smells and some twisted gravitational pull that makes any sort of open container of liquid automatically fall to the ground and spill everywhere.

Despite all of this, I’ve always felt that my house was missing something, a certain vitality that would push this humble place over the edge. I’ve thought about a pet, but according to the lease, that won’t work. We have some bugs, but they really aren’t that fun to play with. That’s when I figured it out. What my house really needed was a rat – a great big one with sharp teeth and contagious diseases. If only I was fortunate enough to have a roommate so dumb that he would bring one of these majestic creatures into my house.

Well, I am now officially the luckiest man in the world.

One of my six roommates has always set himself apart when it comes to incompetence and inconsideration. He blasts his underground rap music at morning hours during which college students just shouldn’t be awake. He has thrown up all over the couch and wall, only to leave it there for hours while he went to class. Now, to top everything else that he has ever done, he brought a live rat into our house and let it get loose.

I’m a relatively tolerant guy. If my buddy’s pet hamster had somehow chewed through its cage or used its peanut-sized brain to escape, I would be more impressed with the rodent than angry at my friend. This, however, was not the case. My roommate, who will not be named for legal purposes and because I don’t want to be connected with his sudden disappearance, did not put this slimy, repugnant rat in a cage. He left it in a cardboard box – a cardboard box with the top open.

Who would have guessed that the situation took a turn for the worse?

Just to emphasize this roommate’s lack of, um, worth as a human being: After realizing that the rat was missing, he decided to wait until the next morning to look for it, confident that it would stay in his closet-sized room. So, he went to sleep in his bed that rises about four inches above the floor and is most likely filled with more crumbs than a bakery. Good job, buddy.

There are only three things in life that creep me out. OK, I’m sure there are a lot more than that, but right now only three are coming to mind: goiters, tapioca pudding and rats. I hate that last one the most. With their beady eyes and long, pointy noses, there aren’t too many things that make me cringe more than the thought of one of those snow-colored rodents scampering around the rooms of my house.

The rat wasn’t found until later the next day, as another one of my friends, the notoriously violent “John” noticed that one of his trash bags was jumping around slightly more than usual. Fighting off his aggressive tendencies, “John” used a cardboard box to scoop up the rat and released it into the wild.

So why did I just spend all this time telling you this story? What is the point? Is it a public service announcement about how to safely keep rodents? Is this an attempt for me to preach about how important it is to be responsible, especially when another life is in your hands? Is it to warn you about asking people to live with you solely because you need a warm body to pay rent?

No. This column is all about finding the right mix of people to live with. I mean, my other roommates are fine and all, but I’m not sure what I’d do without this particularly selfish and free-thinking person around me all the time. I need that guy who brings dirty rodents into the house. Who else would the rest of us have to make fun of for trying to steal all of our food or walking around half naked? This kid, despite all of his apparent faults, is what makes living in my house such an experience. He adds to its character much more than any random smell or noise ever will.

My advice is to find one of these guys and live with him. You won’t regret it – at least not until he loses a rat and decides not to look for it until the next night. Then you’ll probably be pretty mad.

E-mail Sam at seg23@pitt.edu if you have a comfy couch he can sleep on.