Blade Runner

It is my first roommate interview. In the elevator I try to convince myself I’m very confident and fun to be around. Next to me stands a girl about my age. She tries to take a picture of herself in the mirror without me ending up in it.

On the way to the apartment, she walks closely behind me. Once there I ask:

“Are you also here for the roommate interview?”

“Certainly”, she responds distantly.

“Nervous?”

“No, not really.”

A blonde girl in dungarees opens the door. She jumps into the air out of excitement. The two girls fly into each other’s arms.

“It’s so wonderful you’re here!”

I receive a handshake.

“Hi, you’re from Facebook, right?”

“Yes, I’m Onno.”

After a tour of the apartment, we are handed Desperado’s. The two girls drop down on a couch in the communal room and start to extensively exchange information on how work is going and whether that one old classmate is still in a relationship or not. There is a Blade Runner-poster hanging on the wall. I wait for an opening to mention this. When the girls simultaneously take a sip of Desperado, I take my chance.

“Oh, a Blade Runner-poster, that movie is pretty cool.”

The hostess responds: “Oh yeah? Never heard of that, must be from one of the previous residents.”

The apartment other resident arrives. He apologizes that he’s late, he still wanted to ‘hit the gym’. His roommate introduces her friend whom she met in high school. She says they have experienced some insane evenings in Waddinxveen together. The host proposes to all tell a wild story about times we went out. He starts:

“One night, I took this chick home with me, but I was so fucking high on ketamine that I didn’t feel a thing when I was fucking her!”

Everyone bursts out laughing. I try to think of something funny for when it’s my turn. But when the laughter dies down, the host starts talking about how many kilos he benched today. The girls are impressed. “Wow”, they both exclaim. He then talks about the many long queues at the Basic Fit. Complaining about having to wait in line is something I can partake in.

“Yeah, one time I…”

“Yeah, exactly, I agree”, says the host, interrupting me. He takes a sip from his beer.

“What do you agree with?” I ask.

He is visibly confused.

“Huh?”

I say that I’m going home. While I make my way across the sticky floor towards the front door, I hear the hostess enthusiastically sharing words of wisdom:

“Look, if you don’t love yourself, you can’t love someone else, you know?”

The next morning, I receive a text: Hey Joerie, thanks for stopping by! Unfortunately, you didn’t get the room. Best of luck with your search!