Martin seemed like a normal dude. He was clean, polite, and apart from a slight alarm problem, I enjoyed rooming with him. That is until I realized that my socks were slowly going missing..
The Bad:
The socks. Yes, the socks. Specifically: MY socks. Slowly towards the end of senior year, my socks started going missing. At a certain point, I realized I had like 2 pairs of socks left. Suspicious, I decided to run a sneak operation on Martin's dresser. Went into his room..and bang, that's where they were. But did I really want them back now? I mean, were they even MY socks anymore? I figured fuck it, let the man have the socks, and I went to buy new ones. And from that day onwards, I always locked my door.
Night OwlClean RoomNot LoudGuest FreeAlarm Snoozer