Motoring, what’s your price for flight? You’ve got him in your sights,
And driving thru the night!
Motoring, What’s your price for flight? In finding mister right?
You’ll be alright tonight!!
Don would scream along with this song at the top of his lungs into his hair brush in the middle of our dorm room in only his boxer briefs…. and usually while i’m over at my desk trying desperately to figure out what the hell i’m going to do about my chemistry exam i had scheduled at 8 the next morning. ah, just your typical night in the dorms. oh, the memories. it’s funny how things that truly aggravated you back then can somehow evolved into a fond faded memory. take Don, one of my ol’ college roommates for example. Man, we were definitely polar opposites. THE odd couple on campus. the guy was six foot seven (but couldn’t play basketball to save his life..heh) and i…wasn’t six foot seven. he grew up in a military town listening to Ratt, Poison, Dokken and Winger. me, i was born in germany and grew up listening to the beatles!
you should have heard us go at each other with our respective boom boxes. i’d blast The White Album while he was trying to go to sleep and at other times, he’d sing along to “round and round” by Ratt an atonal piece of crap song that should forever be banned from being played on anyone’s stereo system ever again! not only did we have different tastes, i swear the dude had Cameo tourette’s. whenever we happened upon some ‘dead-air’, some moment of silence or a lull in conversation, Don took it as a cue to fill it with some goofball impression of Larry Blackmon from the R&B group Cameo . “OOOWWW! looks so nice! Wrapped up tight!” Don would cry out all of a sudden with his right hand over his crotch sounding strangely like a cross between a constipated Barry White and Groucho Marx.
as for life outside the dorm room, ummm, our meals together were arduous, for lack of a better term. in typical Don fashion, he’d bark at me “hey, hey, hey, lookit her!” several times during a meal. it had become sort of our cafeteria routine. he’d call attention to some passer-by and i involuntarily look up from my plate knowing full well it’d be a waste of effort. the fool had a running commentary on all the girls that passed our way as we ate. i wouldn’t have minded so much if he took note of the many fine lookin’ girlies that were around but nooooo, i ended up with a guy that enjoyed going out of his way to point out the flaws in people. “The girl’s got big-bird’s beak for a nose!”, “dag, wide-load comin’ through”, “man, where are the ankles on that one?”
were what would typically came out of his mouth. and as you might have guessed, he basically talked non-stop. i don’t know. maybe he was just compensating for the lack of info coming from my general direction. with all that talking, he’d end up giving a little TMFI. too much freakin’ information. you know, i really didn’t need to know about : which condom he preferred to use, it had to be extra thick so it wouldn’t break, used geoffrey downes’ The Light Program and mike oldfield’sIslands as their let’s get it on music (what, no dokken?), he had an ex-girlfriend that he still saw from time to time, they both had an understanding, he was almost caught during a time of ‘understanding’ and had to climb out of her bedroom window with only his socks and boxers on… TMFI. OK, i admit that i didn’t REFUSE to listen to his tales but hey, he didn’t HAVE to tell me these things.
but it wasn’t all fun and games. living with someone never really is. we did have our blow-outs. especially early on. but like all guys, we’d just let it blow over and things got forgotten. surprisingly, we ended up getting along pretty well in the latter half of our time together. i even got used to his Cameo tourette’s. hell, i did my own interpretation of it from time to time. although i could have done without being tormented by Ratt songs, i’m still glad i kinda got to know the dude. interesting how memory colours the past.