"Oh okay, well, thank you," I sputter out.What's with the change of heart?
“Trust me, it’s my pleasure,” he says with a strange look in his eyes.
Now that's not suspicious at all...
"Now back to chores. I like my boxers ironed, none of that starch shit. It makes me itch." He pauses and scratches his crotch as if to make a point. I can’t help but allow my eyes to follow and view what he’s packing.
Wait! What did he just say?
“Excuse me? I think I heard you wrong. What makes you think I’ll be ironing your underwear?” I scoff. “I’m all for helping out around here and doing my part, but I can promise you that I will not be touching yours or any of the other guys' boxers.”
He laughs. “You're adorable, all fired up. Are you done?”
I stand and look away in disgust. I turn to leave the room, done with this conversation. But oh no, he's not done being a condescending jerk. "And dishes seem perfect for such soft hands."That's it.I move toward him with my finger outstretched, and stab him in the chest. "Wow. I thought maybe we could have a nice talk between roommates. Get to know each other a bit. Well, you know what, Donovan Blake? You can take your laundry and shove it where the sun don't shine." I stab him one more time for good measure, then stomp out of the room, ignoring his laughter.
What an ass. Unbelievable. These next three years are going to be disastrous if he keeps acting like a chauvinistic... well, ass.Please let these other guys be born of this century and not the 1950s.