"I'm so sorry!" cried Ted, grabbing my hands, preparing to tell some kind of bad news. I had just walked into the dorm room and put my bag back down (I just got back from being at home for the weekend.) "I purposefully killed your fish!" he said, his eyes big with worry at how I'll react.
"You did what?!"
"I actively killed your fish!" he said, his voice booming with deep empathy. "I am so sorry! I was fully conscious of what I was doing!"He blinked his nearly tearful puppy-dog eyes.
"Did you forget to feed him?" I asked.
"No, I just wanted to kill him so I scooped him out of the bowl, put him under my chem book, and sat on it. I'm so sorry!" he said, his hands crossed in a plea for forgiveness.
I tried to say something but my words couldn't get through the thicket of his contradictory tone and words. "H-Wh-But why?"
"I wanted to!" he said exasperatedly. "I wanted to murder your fish, so I did! And I'd definitely do it again because it was really fun, but I'm so sorry!"
That was the first time I noticed this bizarre behavior from my Freshmen year roommate. The similar situation happened several times throughout the year. One day he shook me awake in my bed.
"Dude, I am so sorry but I'm about to go sleep with your girlfriend and I won't be wearing a condom and might impregnate her!" he said, rubbing his head with nervousness at my reaction. At first I thought he was joking until he showed me the sexts from my girlfriend's phone number.
"Don't do it!" I said.
"I want to, but I'm totally sorry, and I feel horrible about how it makes you feel, but I can't wait to go to town on her oily body."
"What is your problem?" I asked him. "You're always apologizing for things you're completely aware of what you're doing!! It's ridiculous!"
"So much for diversity appreciation, huh?" he said, shaking his head.
I leaned up in my bed. "What are you talking about?" I asked him.
"I was raised by nuns."
"Your mother was a nun?"
"No, my mother was killed by German truckers. I was raised by a group of nuns who shooed away the truckers at the scene of the murder. I was raised in the convent, and they taught me to always be honest."
"Hm..." I said, thinking about it.
"I may do some pretty weird things, but forgive me, for I saw my mother get murdered by drunk German truckers when I was three weeks old, okay?"
"You remember it?"
"I remember seeing like a duck in a pond. And I still think about it to this day. In any case, you may think I'm weird, but at least I'm up front about my weirdness."
I smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ted," I said. "I guess I'm the chump. You go sleep with my girlfriend. To be honest..." I said trying to get it off my chest, trying Ted's way of life. "I can't satisfy her that way... because my penis is split sideways."
Ted smiled and nodded. "I appreciate your honesty."
"Feels good to say that out loud to someone other than the team of plastic surgeons who are trying to bridge the gap." I looked up at the roommate who's already taught me so much. "You go. Go bang my sweethart. She likes being called a dirty foreigner while you do it." We hugged it out and the wisest friend I've ever known threw his bag of condoms to the side and skipped out the door.
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