Editor’s Note: This is a satire piece from The Collegian’s opinion section. Real names and the events surrounding them may be used in fictitious/semi-fictitious ways. Those who do not read the editor’s notes are subject to being offended.
Most of us know that roommate life has its perks — split rent, constant companionship, a brotherhood or sisterhood or whatever you like to call it — but along with sharing a room comes sharing commodities: a joint fridge, toilet paper that runs out twice as fast and, if you really like the person, maybe even a comb with the loving entanglement of both your hairs. Living with another person is an adjustment. But none of these lifestyle adjustments come close to sharing the demon that is the Brita filter.
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Every morning when I wake up with the shriveled throat of a pack-per-day smoker, I hobble over to the fridge and pray that she will greet me with a lusciously full and ice-cold rectangular body. I’d like to imagine that she’d be content and happy to see me, condensation beading like sweat as I reach for her handle.
Frankly, this dream of mine is never a reality. How my mornings actually go consists of little to no refreshments. Instead, I am left croaking at my roommate like that puckering worm from SpongeBob SquarePants who is just trying to buy some goddamn chocolate. And with the same fervor of that old and disheveled worm woman, I jangle our empty Brita in the air and proclaim that I have been a single parent taking care of our child in a dual-parent household. This simply cannot go on.
It saddens me to know that thousands upon thousands of Colorado State University students with suspicious tap water are likely going through this same situation. The number of friendships on the line — maybe already ruined — is heartbreaking, but I know I must speak out. Someone has to be a voice for the co-parenting injustices happening daily inside the fridge.
Therefore, on behalf of my struggles, here are five ways to tell your roommate it is their turn to fill that goddamn Brita.
1. Remove your sink, your fridge and any other source of water from the living space
Clearly they don’t care enough to drink, so by proxy, they don’t care enough to shower, brush their teeth or wash their face. No Brita equals no water.
2. Whisper it into manifestation
Once your roommate is asleep, get your lips close to their ear. I don’t mean a couple of inches away — you live together, for god’s sake, so get your smackers close to that pupper. From there, spend a couple of minutes whispering the manifestation: “You want to fill the Brita. You need to fill the Brita.” Repeat as needed. Although this requires sacrificing a little bit of sleep, the first gulp of that heaven-sent ambrosia water you didn’t fill outweighs a couple of all-nighters.
3. Hire Mainstreet A Cappella to break the news
This approach is a little less confrontational if you’re the shy type. Mainstreet A Cappella, CSU’s resident a cappella group, performs gigs all across the Fort Collins community. Because this is the most important conflict since your roommate murdered the toilet and you had to have the awkward Febreze conversation, I’m sure Mainstreet will understand the gravity of this situation and more than happily follow your roommate around singing different chords of Brita with jubilant jazz hands or whatever the hell they do. But perhaps that idea doesn’t sound right to you, so I raise you this: a reenactment of the legendary “Pitch Perfect” riff-off, except all the songs must have the word Brita in them. Yeah, chew on that!
4. Call their mom
Nobody knows the frustration of forgotten chores like a mother. And similarly, nobody can say no to their mom. That being said, if my roommate went so far as to call my mom over some petty conflict, I would evict them. You should give it a try, though!
5. Leave vaguely ominous threats in their textbooks
Written in the margins in a livid scribble: You have three days.
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Reach Emma Souza at letters@collegian.com or on Twitter @_emmasouza.
