by Stephanie Wu
They did try to give me a roommate—a Vietnam War veteran in his late fifties—but he wanted to live with someone more his age. I had the room to myself for the month I lived there. I soon came to realize that I could never have my own space at the hotel—my things often went missing in the bathroom if I left them there overnight, and I knew the staff had a key to my room and could come in and out anytime. I’ve lived in a few places since then, but I do think about the hotel from time to time. If my girlfriend and I moved in there together, it’d only be $1,800 for a downtown location and free food. Maybe we could even pick a room without urine in it.
—T, 34 (M)
THE HOUSEBOY
BETWEEN AN INTERCONTINENTAL MOVE BACK to the States and unemployment, I’m currently in a bit of a quarter-life crisis. I’d been living in Europe for several years when my job contract ended. I had traveled a lot abroad and had great experiences, but was ready to move back to the East Coast. My friend Ben, who I’ve known since I was twelve, had been telling me for a year that if I ever moved back to the States, I could move in with him and his fiancée, Becca. I stayed with them briefly last Christmas and knew they were looking to buy a house.
This past spring, Ben brought it up again: “If you ever want to move to Philadelphia, you have a place with us.” I have a bunch of other friends who live in the city, and I felt a greater draw to Philly than anywhere else. I eventually got Ben to sit down and formalize an agreement: I’d live with him for two months, rent-free, but was expected to chip in on the cleaning, cooking, and other little things around the house, particularly because I was, and still am, unemployed. Becca was completely on board with the plan. She runs a business out of the house, and Ben has a fairly demanding job in the city. The two of them love to eat but don’t always take the time to make food for themselves, whereas I love to cook for other people. It was clear that they’d love it if I was around to make meals regularly and cook enough for everybody.
Becca liked the idea of having another person in the house to hang out with, and since I’ve been close with Ben for a while and she hadn’t gotten a chance to spend a lot of time with me, it was a bonus that I lived upstairs. The house is huge. It has three floors with seven bedrooms—two were converted into offices, others include my room, another room for actual guests, and a crafts room—plus three full bathrooms, for the three of us and two dogs. It’s big enough that sometimes I can go days without seeing them due to our different schedules. A couple of weeks ago, I didn’t see Ben for four days straight even though we live in the same house.
When the two months were up, we sat down to figure out the next step. “I know we agreed on two months rent-free,” said Ben, “but you’re chipping in more than anticipated. We love having you here, so stay as long as you want.” Most of my job description around the house is being a general errand boy. I drive to Home Depot and pick things up for them, because they’re doing a lot of home improvement. It works out perfectly, between their work schedule and my lack of one, for me to do things like that on a Wednesday afternoon. I get groceries fairly often, I clean up, I take the dogs for walks. We have a whole e-mail chain of things Becca wants me to look into, such as the type of gravel to put down on part of the yard for the dogs to hang out on. Most homeowners figure that out on their own; Ben and Becca happen to have somebody around with a fair amount of time on his hands who is skilled on the Internet. They’ve been selling it as, “He bakes fresh bread. What more could you want?” Once a week or so, I e-mail the two of them and ask which days they’re around for dinner, and run recipes past them. It’s household meal planning, but with three adult tastes. We sit down together about once every week for dinner, whether it’s something I made that day or leftovers.
I also help Becca and her business with technical things like IT consulting—the other day, she asked me for help figuring out what type of laptop to buy for her studio. I also call myself the VP of marketing, because I carry around her business cards and constantly meet people socially and professionally. Becca’s always looking for clients but rarely on the prowl, so I help her drum up new business.
My friends have a range of opinions. Some have said, “If you ever get tired, you can come stay with us in Pittsburgh or San Francisco.” One friend made it clear that she would love it if I came and cooked for her family all the time, but she didn’t have room for me. Most people understand, and some even envy the position. After all, I get to live with my friends and hang out with them all the time. It’s much better than moving in with your parents, which is the default for this generation and time. My parents know the deal and understand—they want me to be happy. They took it pretty well when I told them I was moving to the States, but not back home with them.
Even though my Ph.D. is in psycholinguistics, we have a hard time coming up with the right language for our situation. There’s no good term for the guy who lives upstairs. Becca refers to me as the houseboy sometimes. Ben is my housemate, landlord, friend. We share a living space, but we didn’t decorate it together—he did that with Becca. It’s been much more fun than stressful.
I can see myself staying in this situation for at least a few more months. I’m still young, but I also don’t want their kids to ever say, “Why does Uncle N. still live upstairs?” Culturally speaking, it’s not weird for nonrelatives to share a household. It’s very much a post-1950s idea of a nuclear family. When you look at all the sitcoms, whether it’s Alice as a live-in housekeeper on The Brady Bunch, or Full House, which is the definition of a family with a lackey uncle hanging around, it’s not unheard of. It just wasn’t what I was expecting to be doing in my thirties.
—N, 32 (M)
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
If I could thank each and every person who contributed a story by name, I would. But I’ve been sworn to secrecy on your identities, so I’ll just say, thank you for trusting me with your stories. You are some of the most inspiring, hilarious, and brave people I have had the pleasure of interviewing. I hope I’ve done your tales justice and that the worst of your roommate days are behind you.
I’m also highly grateful for every roommate I’ve ever had. From summer camp conversations at lights-out to teaching me how to do laundry or make a grilled cheese sandwich, you’ve left an indelible mark on my life, allowed me a glimpse into a different culture, and helped me become a functioning member of society.
This book would not exist (or have been nearly as fun to write) without the following people:
Hanya, my fantastic editor, who has taken a million chances on me. Working with you never feels like work—you continuously impress me with your immense talent and infinite wisdom.
Danielle, who has always looked out for me. Thank you for championing me in work and life, challenging me to dream bigger, and showing me that nothing is ever as bad as it seems.
Eimear, for being the guinea pig. Your advice and enthusiasm made it both daunting and exciting to follow in your awe-inspiring footsteps.
Stephen, Peter, Andrea, and the Picador team—this has been the experience of a lifetime, one that couldn’t have happened without your patience and guidance. It’s been an incredible adventure; thank you so much for bringing me along for the ride.
Mom, Dad, and Alan (my very first roommate)—I’ll never be able to thank you enough for the invaluable life lessons, and for everything you’ve done that’s allowed me to do what I love for a living.
And my incredible friends, whose support—from spreading the word to spending hours in coffee shops with me—has been immeasurable. This is by no means an exhaustive list, but here are a few: Ashley, Christine, Denise, Diana, Guido, Justin, Kate E., Kate T., Katie, Laura, Maggie, Marietta, Mary, Meera, Megan, Micaela, Michelle, Nick, Priya, Rachel, Ray, Sam, Vincent, Yo-Jud, and my fantastic colleagues, past and present, at Town & Country and Mochi.
ABOUT THE EDITORS
STEPHANIE WU is an editor at Town & Country, covering culture, food, and travel. She is also the founder and editor in chief of Moch
iMag.com, an online publication for young Asian American women. She was raised in Taipei and now lives in New York City with a roommate.
HANYA YANAGIHARA lives in New York City.
THE ROOMMATES. Copyright © 2014 by Stephanie Wu. All rights reserved. For information, address Picador, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
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COVER DESIGN BY ANDERSON NEWTON DESIGN
COVER ILLUSTRATIONS BY BETSY LIN
eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to [email protected].
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data for the print edition is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-05145-5 (trade paperback)
ISBN 978-1-250-05146-2 (e-book)
eISBN 9781250051462
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First eBook Edition: August 2014
