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ornithopter: The Story of Brandon |
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Some background:
I desperately needed a roommate to share my 3 bedroom apartment which is a long story involving deadbeat Canadians, passive-aggression and one excellent wiener dog. I had filled one bedroom, but was having a hard time finding a body to fill the smaller room. So I turned to one of those on-line roommate matching services. I had used this service before and had been relatively successful, notwithstanding the guy who, in his profile, claimed to be 33 and a RISD student but upon meeting him, turned out to be some sort of Disco Stu/possible drug dealer who was 40 if he was a day. He used the word .party. (pronounced .pah-tee.) as a verb three times during our extremely awkward interview. He was not offered the room. We won't even get into the guy with no neck.
I approached several people on the site who seemed like they probably wouldn't be horrible to live with. The only person to reply was Brandon who listed himself as a 24 year old TV producer. The picture he posted of himself on the site seemed to be a head-shot, but since he didn't seem to be an actor or comedian or some other sort of needy self-involved sort, I decided to ignore it. A meeting was set up.
Upon meeting him, he seemed a bit awkward in an overly friendly sort of way, speaking EXTREMELY loudly and using the phrase .that's cool,. way too much, but I figured it was just nerves. He had gone to Hampshire College, and knowing an inadvertently large number of people who had gone there and finding most of them to be highly intelligent, cynical, and funny, I perhaps came to some incorrect conclusions about his being able to do things like hear and retain what someone had just said, or find his way out of a paper bag. I assumed. And we all know what happens when you assume. You get stuck with a guy who gets into intellectual jousting matches with bags of hammers and frequently comes up short.
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