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I need a roommate for the summer. Dods is going to Block Island from roughly June through roughly the beginning of September, so there’s an empty room at 198 W. Broadway. You should move in, but only if you’re
A) semi-clean
B) not addicted to any drug that makes you surly
C) not going to treat this summer as some kind of Adam White’s Column Fantasy Camp where you think I’m going to be taking you out all the time and talking to you about my writing and becoming friends with you.
I don’t need a friend. Just a roommate. But if we accidentally become friends, I’m not going to, like, try to stop it or anything.
Question: How will this process work?
Answer: First, I will tell you how this process will work. Then I will write about the apartment. Then I will give you a questionnaire. Some questions may be multiple choice, some questions may be true or false, but most questions will probably require you to write lengthy essays. I’m not sure exactly what the questionnaire will look like because I just now concocted the idea, I think it’s brilliant, I’m running with it, but I haven’t actually developed the questions or anything.
Okay, so about the apartment.
I kind of already discussed the surrounding area in a previous column, but that was almost entirely composed of lies (especially the parts about the crack addicts), so here is the truth:
Our building is nestled between a Roast Beef/Pizza shack and an empty lot strewn with garbage. The Roast Beef/Pizza shack has obvious benefits, and so does the empty lot strewn with garbage if you just use your imagination. Because here’s the thing - Dods and I just wrote a letter to the owner of the empty lot and proposed a deal: we clean up the place and in return, he let’s us use it for whiffle ball, picnics, bar mitzvahs, and any other event that might include a piñata. So by the time you move in, we could have an expansive backyard - the biggest in Boston. Seriously. Or it might still be an empty lot strewn with garbage.
We are a stone’s throw away from the beach, but that’s only if you were to take steroids for the next month, practice throwing all day long, and attach a rocket to whatever stone you plan to throw. So maybe we’re just walking distance to the beach. But still. That’s pretty good. (It’s not a great beach, but it is a good place to run, rollerblade, or run with a dog that knows how to rollerblade).
Also, for reasons that meteorologists have never been able to explain, Southie is always ten degrees cooler and ten times windier than the rest of Boston. In the winter, this sucks. But in the summer, it’s going to be awesome. It will be like having outdoor air conditioning that smells like the ocean and sounds like seagulls.
But that’s all on the exterior of the apartment. You’re more interested in the interior.
Our apartment is on the third floor of our building, but the door is on the second floor, which allows for a mudroom and then a majestic entrance-by-stairway into our living and dining areas. When you see our living area you will think to yourself, “My God! It’s so bright, spacious, light, wooden-floored, and tastefully decorated! And it has a fake fireplace!” When you first come to the apartment, I will show you how to use the fireplace but then you will not be allowed to use it for the rest of the summer because July is not a good time to use the fireplace, especially when we’re trying to keep the gas bill under control.
In front of our fireplace, you will see the Tiger that Dods and I killed while on Safari in the Congo. It’s not a real tiger though. It’s a rug that looks like a tiger. And actually we didn’t kill it. Dods’ dad bought it at an 85%-off sale at Macy’s. But it’s still very impressive, I think.
Now let’s walk through the rest of the apartment. On your left you will see our washer/dryer, which is a good thing to have in an apartment because it makes your clothes smell like fresh laundry.
Then we arrive at the kitchen. Wow. What a kitchen. If the apartment were an oyster (it’s not), the kitchen would be the pearl. Stainless steel appliances (the refrigerator even has an ice and water dispenser!) and black granite counter tops surround cabinets that have evidently been carved out of some kind of wood.
After the kitchen, you will see my room on my left and then the bathroom on the right. The bathroom has a full bath with the kind of shower that will blow your brains right out of your nostrils. And the whole WC is clean, which is nice.
In the back of the apartment is Dods’/your room. You have a closet, a desk, a bureau, and heck, I bet you could even fit a beanbag in there somewhere. And his/your bed is very comfortable.
Now we’ve arrived at the back porch, which has a panoramic view of the financial district if you look straight ahead, or the Back Bay if you look to your left. We also have a paved backyard, which is perfect for barbecuing or pong (and don’t forget - we’ll hopefully have the biggest backyard in Boston soon).
So that’s our/your place. It can be yours for 800 a month plus utilities. As long as you answer the following questions correctly:
1. You are a…
A) Cat person
B) Dog person
C) Snake person
D) Both
E) One of the above
2. True or false: a male lion could kill a male tiger if they had to fight one on one. Does it make a difference if they’re fighting in a cage or a jungle or a parking lot? What if one or both of them were female? Explain.
3. Discuss an incident in your past in which your roommate was having a bad day, so you gave him a back massage to make him feel better.
4. Your roommate proposes a manage a trois. You:
A) freak out and say no way
B) participate
C) not only participate, but bring something unexpected to the table, like handcuffs or an abundance of enthusiasm
5. Describe your perfect roommate. Then describe me. If they aren’t exactly the same, find a creative way to destroy what you’ve written, then try again.
6. If Adam White’s Column Fantasy Camp were a real thing, would you attend? Do you have friends who would also attend? Take as many words as you need to present ideas for turning this into a sustainable and lucrative business. List any rich people you know (and their contact info), who might be willing to chip in some moolah to get this thing off the ground. For extra credit, design a logo for Adam White’s Column Fantasy Camp. Also, whenever you write Adam White’s Column Fantasy Camp, make it bold, like this: Adam White’s Column Fantasy Camp.
Email your roommate applications to adam@theadamwhite.com. Pictures required.
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