My Roommate thinks I sell drugs.

Last night I got home from a trip to Kodiak, Alaska at around 1. Jet lagged. Tired. Smelly. I just hit the sack.

My new roommate (old guy moved out) is very sociable and annoying. She has friends over a lot. She’s loud. Especially at night. No respect for the 10pm quiet time hours that nobody enforces.

Last night she had a bunch of friends come in the house loudly at 3am. They started chatting loudly in the hallway right outside my bedroom. Which is awesome. I thought I heard the word roommate so I started paying attention.

She started explaining how she doesn’t really know me but she thinks I sell drugs or something because I don’t work during the day, I’m out every night and I don’t talk to her much. If I were a drug dealer, I wouldn’t be renting a room I found on craigslist for $400. I mean. I’ve only seen scarface a couple times, but I don’t remember the scene where Tony Montana is having the huge gun battle and his roommates come out like “Hey, can you keep it down. Some of us have to work in the morning. Oh. and can you move your car because the garbage truck is coming in the morning and your blocking it.” Either you’ve never met me, or you’ve never met a drug dealer before. I’m guessing the first one. I would be the worst drug dealer. I’m bad at math. I’m bad at gang fights. I respect the police. You never hear that in a rap song.