When you move to your first college apartment and you have your first college kitchen with a snazzy college refrigerator and pantry, you will have to inevitably start getting some groceries. Getting groceries in college can be a colossal pain in the ass for a lot of reasons. First, if you live in a city, you most likely do not have a car, which means you are trekking with those groceries x amount of blocks, most likely, weekly. This is when you will start to miss and value your mother. Secondly, buying groceries is expensive because if you are going to haul your ass down to the local Trader Joes, you are going to get enough groceries to sustain you until you graduate because God forbid you have to make this trip again, and that means racking up a likely $100+ grocery bill. But most importantly, grocery shopping sucks because you know you will shell out all of this money to buy food, and then you will have to cook this freaking food. And when finals/midterms hit and you are sleeping in the library, the last thing you want is to have to go home and slave away in the kitchen to sustain yourself. No, what you really want is Chipotle (and yes, you do want the guac even though it's extra) and a pint of Ben and Jerry's.
However, there is a sweet little solution to all your food and grocery related problems, and it's already sitting in the refrigerator. Oh yes, you guessed it; it's your roommate's food.
Why is it always true that when your hunger is equivalent to a ravenous pack of hyenas, that your roommate just happens to have dope as hell leftovers and snacks? I mean it's like they are telling you "PLEASE EAT MY FOOD; LOOK HOW YUMMY IT IS". Well, it is likely that on multiple occasions you have responded to that invitation with a don't mind if I do. So, to all those food thieves out there, I salute you, and I invite you to reminisce with me about those thoughts you have while eating your roommate's food.
Sweet Jesus, I am hungry enough to eat Michael Phelps 6,000 calorie diet three times.
*pops open the fridge*
I spy with my pretty little eye left over Papa Johns.
*silently moonwalks, wops and twerks simultaneously*
I want that pizza. I want it real bad.
Buttttttt it's not mine, and I am a good roommate who doesn't eat their roommates food.
*swings refrigerator door closed and walks away to go cry and chew on a pillow*
Who am I kidding? I'm a crappy roommate; I'm going to go back and eat that pizza. My roommate never eats her/his leftovers anyways, and they definitely won't remember how many slices were left.
*removes pizza box and starts to fantasize about the first bite*
I will daintily remove the smallest piece (read a piece of pizza so large it is probably two pieces), being careful not shift the arrangement of the others because I am a super spy and no one can catch me, and pop it in the microwave.
*watches the front door with intense anxiety, knowing that at any moment the roommate could walk in and catch you*
*hears the microwave ping*
God, is that you?
*removes the slice of pizza and consumes it in under 3 seconds*
Should I be in awe of myself or terrified?
That smaller (read gigantic) piece of pizza didn't do the trick, so I am just going to take a second.
(repeats previous food consuming thoughts)
It's not enough!
I have now almost eaten all of the pizza, and there is no way to cover it up if I eat the last piece.
I feel anger. That pizza should be mine. They left it here to go bad and didn't even appreciate it.
*six minutes of internal struggle ensues*
*finally, an epiphany*
I have come up with the perfect plan. I will say I opened the refrigerator door, and the pizza box just fell out. I tried to catch it, but, alas, it was too late. So, I threw it away, but the box was too big for our trashcan so I had to take it to the dumpster. PROBLEM. SOLVED.
*smugly eats the last piece of pizza, and it tastes like victory*
I have no regrets, and I know I will go on to steal food from my roommate forever.
Eating your roommate's food saves you money, time and most of all energy. So, thank you to all those leftover-leaving, grocery-buying and gullible roommates out there that nourish slackers like me. Y'all are the real MVPs.
