The Home “Dawn” Sticks Her Foot in My Mouth

Many people just shouldn’t have roommates.

My roommate’s one of ’em.

Ritalin Roommate I’ve nicknamed her but I reckon soon an even more fitting name will emerge. The Friendly Tyrant. The Loud Tyrant. Not sure.

If a Friendly Tyrant seems incongruent, trust me, it’s more than conceivable! It’s common. Many tyrants through history have been charmers. Guys who ruled with a smile and “joviality” with their iron fists tucked inside velvet gloves. Take President Obama. Please.

While I’m not equating my roommate with Obama or Stalin or any other world-famous dictators, when it comes to one in the home, it’s too close and personal.

A dictator in the home sucks the life outta me. Unfortunately, this is not an unfamiliar scene. I was raised in a home with an extraordinarily controlling and dictatorial father who had his thumb on everyone. Especially me, because I fought back.

There’s a lot about my roommate, who’s female, that’s paternalistically oppressive. It’s her way or shut up. At 61-ish and seasoned by life, she should really know better. You don’t treat your roommates like children — children who shouldn’t be seen or heard.

She talks a lot about respect. “This is my house, you should respect that. You’re not respecting me or that this is my house.” Those kind of comments.

Here’s an observation:

Mafia dons, including Obama. What’s their No. 1 MO and rally cry? Respect. They insist, nee demand, respect. In truth, however, it ain’t respect. It’s intimidation. It’s bullying. It’s “Do As I Say or You’ll Find Yourself Swimming in Concrete Up to Your Eyebrows.”

Thing is, my roommate doesn’t see that. What she HAS is a need to be in near-absolute control. When a roommate, well, me, doesn’t “fall in line,” I’m perceived as provoking.

If say I leave the front door open to allow cool air to relieve the trapped heat and she wants it closed, she’ll shout to me across the house to shut the door and then “slam!” No please. No kindness. No courtesy even. No coming to my room, knocking on the door and requesting that the door be closed for X reason.

That’d be way too thoughtful and considerate and … wait for it … respectful.

How ironic that the woman who DEMANDS respect is the last to give it.

So yeah, she’s a tyrant and extremely unpleasant to live with. UNfortunately, I just can’t move right now. I need employment first.

Moreover, I do continue to scan the craigshitlist housing ads. Gawwwwwwwd is it slow out there so even if I DID have a job, the slim pickins and highly competitive housing situation impede a hasty escape.

For now, I’m stuck. Trapped. Unable to move, literally, and unable to breathe or speak except when I’m away from the house, which is most of the time. By being sooo controlling, she sticks HER foot in MY mouth. Anything I say is perceived as argumentative to her dictates. WTF, I cannot win for losing. Neither can I lose to win.

I HATE that I’m paying no small sum for this borderline abuse and toxic environment. A prison cell would be cheaper but gettin’ that room requires deeds I’m not really down for.

In the meantime, I’ll keep my mind chewing on the right nickname and keep writing. It’s about the only form of expression available to me for if I don’t voluntarily shut my mouth (and I do, for survival), it WILL be shut for me, thank you roommate.

Damn, I can’t wait for the day I get to bid adieu to this bitch!

By the way, I looked up don to see whether it’s strictly male. No mention was made, just the definition of “powerful Mafia leader.” I doubt there’s been many — or any — female dons through history. It’s not her name but I feel it appropriate to start calling her Dawn.

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