STD Part 2: Beginnings
Our adventures with STDave started in the Fall of 2003. I was preparing Apartment 1D for the arrival of my three new roommates. The carpet had been cleaned (not by me), all the rooms were empty, and the kitchen was daily becoming cleaner and cleaner. I very much looked forward to living with the two roommates that I knew. Unfortunately, the fourth roommate that we had planned decided to live elsewhere during the summer. Therefore, it fell to the cold and calculating hands of the University to place a man in the empty bedroom.
I believe I was hanging out in the apartment with Dave (not STDave) when the front door to the kitchen opened unexpectedly. Two large strange men walked unannounced into my apartment and began wondering aloud if this were the correct apartment. I thought that was an odd question to wonder AFTER entering a strange apartment, but as I expected an unknown roommate, I was able to deal with this intrusion. The older man was actually quite friendly, and chatted with Dave and myself. The younger one, the one who was obviously the college student, seemed a bit quiet but otherwise fairly friendly. While talking with STDave's dad, I learned that he (the dad) was a youth pastor, that they live in Tennessee, and that STDave had gone to a different, more expensive university in the area before transferring. This tidbit of information would be the only information any of us would ever know about STDave, excluding information gained through passive observation.
When he came in that day, both he and his father were surprised to learn that there was no bed in the bedroom. Once again, I thought that maybe this would have been something they researched before they moved in to an apartment, but I understood that assumptions get made, and maybe in Tennessee, all apartments come furnished. STDave was in luck. Jim had already brought and assembled a futon in the living room of the apartment. Although Jim was still a couple of days from moving in, Dave and I decided that he would not disallow our new roommate to sleep on his new futon. In hopes of beginning a friendly new relationship and extending good will, we offered him the futon, just until he got a new bed, and STDave accepted.
The next morning was a Sunday. I got up around 9 to go to church, and as I stumbled out into my room, a shirtless hairy STDave was sprawled out on Jim's futon. Amazingly, my numerous trips between bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen, which all involved passing through the living room, did not seem to stir Sleeping Beau... uh ... Sleeping STDave. Although impressed by his ability to sleep through not only my morning routine, but also the routine of Dave, it did not strike me as incredibly strange that a college student would still be in bed at 10:30, when I left.
After a nice morning at church, and a lengthy lunch with my friends, I returned home around 2:00 pm. Upon opening the door I realized that the futon had not been folded back into its proper and upright position. Then I noticed that there was still a hairy mass curled up on it. Euh.
Dave was in his room. A victim of his own politeness, he couldn't really watch tv or cook, or do anything in the common rooms of the house, because our new roommate, with whom we were hoping to establish a genial relationship was sleeping peacefully. Dave and I contented ourselves by saying (whispering actually), "This is only until he gets a bed."
The next few days were really quite busy. Classes were beginning, organizations were advertising, Jim had finally moved in, and life was generally getting busier for everyone. Well...almost everyone. While, Jim, Dave, and I went about our normal campus lives, we could not help but notice a few things. First of all, STDave obviously failed to buy a bed during that Sunday. In his defense, by the time he woke up and would have been moving around, I'm sure all the furniture places would have been closed. Also, STDave didn't have a car, and he never accepted our polite offers to take him to necessary places.
We also noticed that STDave's bizarre sleeping schedule did not really seem to change just because we switched over from school-less weekend to class-ful weekdays. Although, among the three of us, we often ran into each other and each other's friends on campus, we couldn't help but notice that STDave had never been spotted by anyone on campus. In fact, it was finals week before there were any confirmed sightings of him on campus outside of our apartment.
That week we learned two things about STDave. First of all, he had strange eating habits (See Part 1). Second of all, the fact that he didn't have a bed didn't seem to bother him an awful lot. It seemed that STDave had very odd opinions of privacy. Throughout the day, we hardly knew he was there (If you count "day" as starting at about 3:00 pm, when he would roll off the futon and retreat to his room). He only came out of his room for 1 of 3 reasons.
1. To make macaroni and cheese.
2. To expel macaroni and cheese.
3. To sleep half-naked on Jim's futon.
One would think that people who lead quiet and private lives through the day would prefer not to sleep in common areas at night. This was not the case with STDave. Sleeping was by far the most social thing he did.
The story continues. What we had thought was the offering of a futon for one night, turned out to be the offering of a futon for one month. Throughout the course of the month, Jim, Dave, and I became mysteriously louder and louder in the morning during our morning routines. I think I even began watching the news before going to school. Although there was a little bit of annoyance and pettiness in this behavior, on all of our parts, I think we were more amazed than anything.
I mentioned above that sleeping was the most social thing STDave did. It turns out that that will end up being a double-entendre. The story of the futon (and how it got its name) would not be complete without just a couple small but remarkable anecdotes.
Although a trip to the bathroom in the middle of the night always resulted in seeing STDave on the couch, sometimes we got to learn that STDave had a few friends that also seemed quite fond of Jim's futon. His friends (who merit and will get a chapter all to themselves) came from his former, neighboring university to pay him a visit, usually during evening hours once or twice a week. Every now and then, though, some would stay over.
One dark and stormy evening (I dion't know that it was actually bad weather, but it just seems fitting and right to say that it was), Dave walked into the apartment to the sound of strange noises. Praying that what he thought was happening wasn't actually happening, he glanced over to the futon, and as his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, they fell up on a kind of moral darkness he had hoped never to see in our living room. There, on the futon, was STDave and girlfriend, TR. What they were doing would go down in 1D history, and would give the new futon a new name: Hippity Dippity.
One more memorable event would occur before month's end. One Saturday morning as I began to prepare for a lazy college weekend, I awoke to a scene straight out of Ally McBeal. On the small futon were STDave, TR, and a THIRD MAN!!! (This man, we would go on to call Friendly). EEEuuuuhhhhhhh!!!! Although there could be a million reasons that these three people could be sleeping, scantily clothed, late into the morning on a small futon in my living room, I don't want to think about any of them.
Eventually, STDave would go on to buy a bed. This obviously meant that our contact with him sharply declined (except for the macaroni incident and several like incidents that will be posted later). However, this short, introductory month to STDave will remain an important memory that will burn on in the back of our brains for as long as we live. Kind of like some horrible disease.
I believe I was hanging out in the apartment with Dave (not STDave) when the front door to the kitchen opened unexpectedly. Two large strange men walked unannounced into my apartment and began wondering aloud if this were the correct apartment. I thought that was an odd question to wonder AFTER entering a strange apartment, but as I expected an unknown roommate, I was able to deal with this intrusion. The older man was actually quite friendly, and chatted with Dave and myself. The younger one, the one who was obviously the college student, seemed a bit quiet but otherwise fairly friendly. While talking with STDave's dad, I learned that he (the dad) was a youth pastor, that they live in Tennessee, and that STDave had gone to a different, more expensive university in the area before transferring. This tidbit of information would be the only information any of us would ever know about STDave, excluding information gained through passive observation.
When he came in that day, both he and his father were surprised to learn that there was no bed in the bedroom. Once again, I thought that maybe this would have been something they researched before they moved in to an apartment, but I understood that assumptions get made, and maybe in Tennessee, all apartments come furnished. STDave was in luck. Jim had already brought and assembled a futon in the living room of the apartment. Although Jim was still a couple of days from moving in, Dave and I decided that he would not disallow our new roommate to sleep on his new futon. In hopes of beginning a friendly new relationship and extending good will, we offered him the futon, just until he got a new bed, and STDave accepted.
The next morning was a Sunday. I got up around 9 to go to church, and as I stumbled out into my room, a shirtless hairy STDave was sprawled out on Jim's futon. Amazingly, my numerous trips between bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen, which all involved passing through the living room, did not seem to stir Sleeping Beau... uh ... Sleeping STDave. Although impressed by his ability to sleep through not only my morning routine, but also the routine of Dave, it did not strike me as incredibly strange that a college student would still be in bed at 10:30, when I left.
After a nice morning at church, and a lengthy lunch with my friends, I returned home around 2:00 pm. Upon opening the door I realized that the futon had not been folded back into its proper and upright position. Then I noticed that there was still a hairy mass curled up on it. Euh.
Dave was in his room. A victim of his own politeness, he couldn't really watch tv or cook, or do anything in the common rooms of the house, because our new roommate, with whom we were hoping to establish a genial relationship was sleeping peacefully. Dave and I contented ourselves by saying (whispering actually), "This is only until he gets a bed."
The next few days were really quite busy. Classes were beginning, organizations were advertising, Jim had finally moved in, and life was generally getting busier for everyone. Well...almost everyone. While, Jim, Dave, and I went about our normal campus lives, we could not help but notice a few things. First of all, STDave obviously failed to buy a bed during that Sunday. In his defense, by the time he woke up and would have been moving around, I'm sure all the furniture places would have been closed. Also, STDave didn't have a car, and he never accepted our polite offers to take him to necessary places.
We also noticed that STDave's bizarre sleeping schedule did not really seem to change just because we switched over from school-less weekend to class-ful weekdays. Although, among the three of us, we often ran into each other and each other's friends on campus, we couldn't help but notice that STDave had never been spotted by anyone on campus. In fact, it was finals week before there were any confirmed sightings of him on campus outside of our apartment.
That week we learned two things about STDave. First of all, he had strange eating habits (See Part 1). Second of all, the fact that he didn't have a bed didn't seem to bother him an awful lot. It seemed that STDave had very odd opinions of privacy. Throughout the day, we hardly knew he was there (If you count "day" as starting at about 3:00 pm, when he would roll off the futon and retreat to his room). He only came out of his room for 1 of 3 reasons.
1. To make macaroni and cheese.
2. To expel macaroni and cheese.
3. To sleep half-naked on Jim's futon.
One would think that people who lead quiet and private lives through the day would prefer not to sleep in common areas at night. This was not the case with STDave. Sleeping was by far the most social thing he did.
The story continues. What we had thought was the offering of a futon for one night, turned out to be the offering of a futon for one month. Throughout the course of the month, Jim, Dave, and I became mysteriously louder and louder in the morning during our morning routines. I think I even began watching the news before going to school. Although there was a little bit of annoyance and pettiness in this behavior, on all of our parts, I think we were more amazed than anything.
I mentioned above that sleeping was the most social thing STDave did. It turns out that that will end up being a double-entendre. The story of the futon (and how it got its name) would not be complete without just a couple small but remarkable anecdotes.
Although a trip to the bathroom in the middle of the night always resulted in seeing STDave on the couch, sometimes we got to learn that STDave had a few friends that also seemed quite fond of Jim's futon. His friends (who merit and will get a chapter all to themselves) came from his former, neighboring university to pay him a visit, usually during evening hours once or twice a week. Every now and then, though, some would stay over.
One dark and stormy evening (I dion't know that it was actually bad weather, but it just seems fitting and right to say that it was), Dave walked into the apartment to the sound of strange noises. Praying that what he thought was happening wasn't actually happening, he glanced over to the futon, and as his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, they fell up on a kind of moral darkness he had hoped never to see in our living room. There, on the futon, was STDave and girlfriend, TR. What they were doing would go down in 1D history, and would give the new futon a new name: Hippity Dippity.
One more memorable event would occur before month's end. One Saturday morning as I began to prepare for a lazy college weekend, I awoke to a scene straight out of Ally McBeal. On the small futon were STDave, TR, and a THIRD MAN!!! (This man, we would go on to call Friendly). EEEuuuuhhhhhhh!!!! Although there could be a million reasons that these three people could be sleeping, scantily clothed, late into the morning on a small futon in my living room, I don't want to think about any of them.
Eventually, STDave would go on to buy a bed. This obviously meant that our contact with him sharply declined (except for the macaroni incident and several like incidents that will be posted later). However, this short, introductory month to STDave will remain an important memory that will burn on in the back of our brains for as long as we live. Kind of like some horrible disease.
posted by Andy at 7:08 PM
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