Come and knock on our door

I am stuck at work, but the boys are out apartment/house shopping today. Here's hoping they find something with a large bathtub, good lighting, and a robot that comes out of the broom closet and cleans it all while I'm at work.

I actually spoke with my mother the other day, trying to explain the upcoming shift in my living arrangements. It started simply enough, with the phrase 'I'm moving'.

"Away? Again?"

I say: No mom, just around the block or maybe a few towns over. We're getting a roommate, Jesse, so we're going to need a bigger place.

I think: No mom, I already moved away. And to the land of yankees. I don't think in your mind I can get anymore away than that.

"Oh, is this a friend of John's or something?"

I say: Yes, and mine. They work for the same company. He's a really great guy and we all get along very well.

I think: You know, I can hear the suspicion in your voice. Your brain cannot compute why I'd rather have a roommate instead of kid. Obviously, something is wrong with me and John. And possibly, I am fucking this other guy for kicks. Hrm... now there's a thought.

"Well, it'll be like Three's Company then, won't it."

I say: So I have to pretend I'm gay when the landlord shows up?

I think: So I have to pretend I'm straight when the landlord shows up?