The 7 different kinds of roommates in college

The Toddler
It might start off simply- "Oh, I lost my key", or "Hey, could I print this out on your computer?" but the dependency has only begun. Pretty soon he's asking you which shirt looks better with these khakis as you fill out the complicated parts of his FAFSA application. Of course, all of this is just child's play compared to weekends. Even the most prolonged use of your toothpaste has nothing on what happens when this enormous preschooler gets a hold of a bottle of booze. You spend most weekend nights fielding calls from a guy named J-Rock telling you that no one can get him out of the sycamore outside Sigma Nu. When you finally drag him home at 4:15 AM, you'll be rewarded with a bonus round of projectile vomiting brought to you by his accidental alcohol poisoning. It's a good thing his mom left a laminated sheet of emergency numbers glued to your tack board!

The Mascot
Hopefully you like your school's colors, because before you moved in, your roommate and his parents came early and repainted your room. Your spirited roommate has no standards for people other than the fact that they go to your school. Thus the glaring douchiness of a person doesn't matter to him as long as they are coincidentally chosen and enrolled in your class. Whenever you wear a red shirt, your roommate boos you and says, "F*ck the Wildcats," at which point you try to explain to them that red is not wolverines, it's a color. Eventually he will decide to run for student government and your front door will be plastered with campaign posters. He considers his running for office the biggest moment of your life, and never allows you to fall asleep as he explains to you all the bright new ideas he has about fresh produce in the cafeteria and a sure fire plan that will get the Guster to perform in the stadium. You won't vote for him, but he will still win the election and you will be stuck eating healthier school lunches and pretending to like Guster.

The Hopeless Romantic
If you are a girl, then Yahtzee! Your roommate's decision to enter a relationship has landed you a single. But if you're a guy, your double is now effectively a triple in which you have somehow become the imposing stranger. That feels frustrating at first, but the girlfriend has a lot of single friends and says that she will set you up with them. However, none of those girls want to date her boyfriend's roommate, because they see you as leftovers. When you finally rebel against the sexiling and stay in the room even at your roommate's urgings to leave, you find that your glorious statement means nothing as they still fornicate while you pretend to sleep and fight back tears. When a nightmare about loneliness startles you awake later that evening, you notice that they are having sex yet again. You also notice that you have a boner. Against your better judgment you begin masturbating to their lovemaking and decide that it is better than porn and that maybe having a roommate with a girlfriend isn't so bad. Until you get caught, that is. Then it's really bad.

The B.F.F.
When you walked into your open double, he was already there listening to "One Man Wrecking Machine" and hanging a poster of "Wedding Crashers" on his wall. You ripped your headphones from your ears to show him that you also were listening to Guster, and you frantically unzipped your luggage to show him your same "Wedding Crashers" poster. You find out that you both love cheeseburgers and the same TV shows. You hit on girls together, you drink together, you work out together; you do everything together. One day he meets a really cool girl and you both really like her, but she hangs out more with him probably because he's taller and she's kind of tall or whatever. It's fun because she likes Guster and "Wedding Crashers" too. But sort of like you don't see him as much as you like and you called "shotty" when you both first saw her, but he still hooked up with her. But it's cool, it's just that he chews so fucking loud lately and now he won't eat cheeseburgers because she thinks that they are unhealthy. It's not like you miss him or anything but one day you wouldn't mind if maybe he took you to a Vince Vaughn movie just the two of you...or whatever.

The Displaced Legacy
His father went to that ancient, prestigious private university that does legacy admissions, but your roommate failed to meet the already lowered standards to go to Dad's alma mater. But it wasn't his fault...just ask him. Nope, he lost his spot to Affirmative Action for underrepresented demographic groups, or, as he puts it, "they felt sorry for too many one-legged North Korean lesbians." So he "deigned to enroll" at his safety school, which is the school you were thrilled to attend. He copes with this indignity by maintaining an air of superiority and by insulting everyone. And not that you asked to join, but he says you don't have "the right bearing" to be in the a capella society he's founding. Plus, his Freshman 40 were the result of "having to frequent that communal eatery" you call the dining hall, with food "typical of this football school." You wish he would stop calling you and your friends "plebs."

The Hometown Hero
The good news is you have every weekend to yourself because homeboy over there uses his special parking pass to make the four-hour drive home to visit his high school girlfriend. They've been dating for three years now; she's "his everything." The bad news is that you know every little detail about your small-town roomie; his girlfriend's menstruation cycle, his grandmother's birthday, even about the time Stan From Back Home peed his pants after prom. While Jessica Alba posters surround your bed, picture frames and photos dominate every inch of his space. Not like he needs any still shots, this guy spends all of his time skyping. Towards the second half of the year, your weekends alone have been getting increasingly less frequent. You are no longer falling asleep to the sound of texting, or waking up to a mumbled telephone conversation from across the room. You convince your buddy to come out and party with you, but he spends the whole evening bringing up Stan stories. You really don't care about Stan From Back Home or any of his stories. At least you know that next weekend is his great uncle Gary's birthday and he'll probably be going home for that.

The Kevin Spacey
Is he or isn't he? I mean, it's not a big deal, just, you don't know. It doesn't matter which way his compass is pointing, all you want to know is what direction he's going in. Is that so much to ask? You could've broached the subject maybe in the first week, but now you're two months in and it's just getting weirder. Yeah, he'll keep telling you that girl is "super hot" or "a total fuck-bitty", but he also keeps squeezing your arm and calling you Mr. Gyllenhaal. You always walk in on him cuddling with Jackie, the hot girl from the second floor, but then if you say anything, he'll roll his eyes and tell you that she's just his best friend. Not that that's a bad thing! It's a great thing, it's whatever. It's just... CMON! He keeps on saying he has a crush on "somebody" in his chem class, but he doesn't say who, and his facebook has sexual preference as blank- OF COURSE- but it also says he loves David Sedaris, but who doesn't love David Sedaris?? He's hilarious! But then his favorite Musicians are Eminem and Mika! MIKA!!?!?!?!?

But it's whatever man, it's cool.