Off Target

I don't think I'll ever understand some of the culture of this place. Or maybe it's just that I live with someone who's extraordinarily anal retentive and obsessive compulsive. Both? At this point, I have no way of knowing. Part one: As I've started to settle in here, I've been working really hard to get all my things in order. I've also been trying to get used to living in a new place. Yesterday, my roommate approached me.

Roommate: So, uh, what kind of schedule do you want to have to clean the bathroom? Phil: Oh, I'll probably clean it once a week. On Saturday or Sunday. Roommate: Um, actually, I'd prefer it if you cleaned it on Friday or Saturday, because I usually have company come on Sunday.

Never mind that in the month or so I've been here, I've not seen ANY company here on Sundays. And really, if she was going to tell me what days she'd prefer I clean, I'm left wondering why she bothered asking what days I wanted to do so.

Part two: I cleaned the bathroom last night. You know, to make good on the whole "schedule" thing. She has this trash can in there that has totally been grossing me out because she NEVER uses a bag for it. So I'd taken to putting plastic Target bags in there, in an effort to be a tad more sanitary. Unfortunately, she noticed it this morning. Worse, she knocked on my door and then proceeded to raise her voice at me:

Roommate: Um, Phil? Phil: Yeah? Roommate: Um, I just wanted to let you know that we don't put trash bags in this trash can. It looks tacky when company comes over. Phil: I was going for cleanliness. Roommate: I know, but it doesn't look nice when you have a bag with little red Target symbols in it.

Where I come from, people who visit your home don't judge you based on what sort of trash bags you use, least of all in your bathroom. Actually, they'd probably be more likely to frown upon the LACK of trash bag. But I think the bigger question here is: who the fuck looks at the bags in someone's bathroom? I'd be inclined to suggest they seek help if they're in such a habit.

Meanwhile, I have to figure out some way to sneakily use trash bags. If it was up to my roommate, no doubt she'd say I would need to find chrome-colored bags if I wanted the privilege of not suddenly catching some rare non-lined-trash-can-borne illness. I might be inclined to be less afraid of the no-bag thing if it was wood or plastic. But the fact that the shiny metal shows every scratch and smudge just does me in.