I hated the twink

"The first time I meet someone from LA, I  regretted it"- A Sheltered Southerner, Aleco.

In the Fall of 2022, I had the great "pleasure" of being accepted into the (School of Art Institute of Chicago). It was a pivotal moment for me coming from the bible belt of Hattiesburg, MS. I always grew up in the suburbs, didn't even drive and so I was happy to finally see what independence was about. Of course, I was a late bloomer and was not one of those types to just sneak out the house. Though, I did have a couple of ideal fantasies, something aligning towards a Wattpad story. In the 12 hour trip to the dorm building, I put my things up, me and my family were nervously excited about settling in. A couple of weeks before, setting up my housing, I was talking to my roommates online, creating ideas in my head of what they could look like out of boredom. I finally reach my destination were I am met inside the apartment suite, by a twink in a white dress. Of course, though the colors were bright my time with him was not. I see (them) I mean, they were one of those who like to change their pronouns every once in a while to feel something new.

    He, is how I will be referring to him for the rest of this story though. We initially didn't have any issues, He was the second oldest being 20, my other two roommates 19, and 18. Me being 22, but new to the city, I found myself asking him a lot of questions. I didn't realize how that would bite me in the ass in certain situations. He was the type to know (everything) and in his own condescending fashion judge you if he thinks you're slow. One example is, I would purposely tell a joke acting slow, or saying something nonsensical in a way that made it seem like I believed it, and he would look at me like I genuinely believed the words that were coming out of my mouth. He also always talked about his ex he met in Mexico. You think I remember his name the amount of times he would bring the dude up. Which was so confusing, considering he would hookup with a good amount of people. Not tryna slut shame, its just weird to talk about how you took the subway to a threesome that disappointed you, then a week later go down memory lane of what's equivalent to a gay rom-com. 

    That, and he ALWAYS talked about how he wanted to stay in some nights but his friends were going to another rave. I would be like, maybe you should take a break and just tell them you can't come. He then would say he would because he would be hungover, but next thing you know he is going out to fill himself with poppers and molly. I almost felt like he was tethered to his one friend, never truly escaping her grasp.Literally almost everyday it would just be another variation of.....

(I would but my friend) 

                                 (I was gonna go but my friend)

                                                                                   (I could do that but my friend) 

                                                                                                                                    (I would wear that but.,,,my friend said)

    I can't blame him though, his friends seemed to be just as self righteous as the rest of the woke brigade of white artist. I automatically fought off the urge to create a scenerio of pushing him down the stairs. The fake smile while looking me up and down when he didn't (approve) of my outfit was...interesting. Like I said, he was a fashionista and in all honesty it worked for him. Small petite and fem, all the things the gay community fawn over, (especially if its in a white package) believe it or not. Which I assume, is why I was subjected to all the details of his sexual escapades from time to time.

    Now, the youngest of the group was also queer, trans to be exact. And I absolutely adored him. Cool dude, he grew up in Texas, and as a fellow southerner we always talked about aspects of our trauma, it was cathartic to say the least. But then there was always someone else there to try to change the subject.

     You guessed it, it was the twink from L.A. See, we were bothering him with babbling nonsense like homophobia and a lack of desirability. Let's talk about raves and looking hot, while also letting you know  how intellectually superior we are to everyone else for the hundredth fucking time. It was in fact, starting to be apparent that me and him were going to have a (unique) couple of months as roommates. So let's talk about the first offense. Well, this is the first time I had roomates and we were just getting into the hang of things. We had made a group chat just so we could make sure we knew about certain things. One day, I get a text along the lines of (whoever left dishes in this sink, its an issue). I thought, hmmmm......I mean that is unfortunate to leave dishes in the sink that is messy. But then he kept going.

(Seriously guys! Who the hell put this trash in the recycling bin, make sure were you put stuff)

    Now, he is at that time I believe, a sophmore at the college. Meaning, he has had more experience in the city, at the school and rooming with people. However, the dude didn't really understand that you can not just talk to people any kind of way. He kept texting the group chat acting like it was an issue, like he was gonna (handle) somebody. So I get up, and I go confront him at the door. Of course, the energy is not the same. It went from "I'm ready to swing on you hoes" to " I just meant to say...." real quick. This was a big part of his character. To threaten you demean or throw shade, and then to turn around and play the damsel in distress when shit gets real. Another instance, beyond petty comments here or there, is one day I'm with my two other roommates and we are in the kitchen. The twink comes in and exclaims, "who the fuck put an orange peele in the recycling bin!" He then proceeds to make other comments like "Don't mess with a bitch from L.A, when it comes to recycling, this is unacceptable!". Mind you, it was just....an orange peele. I was bassically making light of it like girl...calm down. And he seemed to take that for what it was. After he leaves, I ask the others in the room, should I address that further?

                                                          !THIS WAS MY BIG MISTAKE!

    Because I realized not only were they younger but they were passive. Now I too grew up hating confrontation, and I still do. But as a big black man, there is only so much gentleness a giant can have before he has to step on the ants that keep biting his feet. But I just wanted to make sure I was hearing the same thing, and they assured to me that it wasn't that serious and I should just let it go. You know because he was....(joking). Now, by all means I hate a cliche I told you so, but  it was obvious the hoe was not making a joke. Eventually after some weeks pass, he then goes on some tangents about how he knows this ethnic recipe and bla bla bla. One day, he comes into the kitchen, I am talking to my friend on the couch when we then hear, (who put this in here?) I roll my eyes because it was about the damn recycling bin again. Mind you, after so many times of him talking about that damn blue bin, I made sure to watch what I put in there but as we know...thing happen. He then overhears me laughing and stands there and say "I'm dead serious". 

    Now, Mrs. mamas was surely having her main character moment. I was like (girl, calm down its just a recycling bin). He then proceeded to say "did you do it!". I am of course cracking up because he is getting this agitated over a recyling bin. He then says , "I will beat you the fuck up!". "I'm not kidding!"

    Now......Now................Now you know that I was sitting there not only laughing but really contemplating slapping that hoe. But I understood the optics. And I also understood what kind of white gay he was. See, he was the type to constantly say how much he hates straight men. Constantly put himself above masculinity and all things of that nature. He would complain to me one day about a story where someone thought he was woman, yet he wears makeup, and dresses and has an androgynous look to him. He would remark how he hated hip-hop because its mysoginistic, yet turn around and say to his friends how he was going to beat a bitch up. He is all for understanding people, yet he judged them the moment they don't meet his standards. He is the literal personification of a (white liberal gay) who thinks so highly of themselves because they've cracked-the- code. The code being, they would talk about how racist their family members are, and how they only (pretend) to talk to them on the holidays. Long story short, a basic bitch.

    Even though I was at a multicultural school that prided themselves off of the illusion of acceptance. It is true that in any establishment there is a code. A almost trivial, lunchtime at high school, type feel to it. In this sense, I wasn't gonna risk the dude switching gears and acting like the victim, once I drop some octaves in my voice and act like a (typical nigga). Then the narrative would be, Alex came in and assaulted that poor twink by slapping his ass cherry red. I didn't need that kind of behavior from an institution I already was low-key regretting going in debt for. So I just laughed it off, and he walked his ass back to his room.  The months past, and I am eventually back home typing this story. Yeah, I knew that I was going to be dealing with some different characters moving from home but I already heard so much shit about people in L.A. How they are vapid, try hard, and overly superficial. Safe to say, this was not a great introduction to people from that area. Not gonna say that everyone from there acts like that, but my God it was awful. In the future, when I have an apartment I would hope to have only great roomates. Instead of sassy hoes that want to start a fight they know they would lose. Its just added stress to an already stressful existence and I don't need that, lol. Anyways bye, see you next time for another story.