Josh Demauris is a second-year English specialist living in the Chinatown area. He lives on the corner of Huron St. and Cecil St. in a “dilapidated soup kitchen-styled three-bedroom” with two of his friends, Jack and Jason. Demauris, in the early hours of Monday morning, reached out to The Boundary and asked if he could “directly call out [his] boy,” after a slew of other measures he tried “failed.” This is his cry for help.
My housemate, Jason, is a slob—pure and simple. He wakes up, crushes breakfast, and charges through the second step of his meal: dumping the fucking dishes in the goddamn sink. Sometimes he cleans, most times he doesn’t. Our sink is overflowing six out of seven days, and there’s ominous indications that he has moved on to colonize the rest of the house with his unending supply of dirty forks, spoons, bowls, and plates.
I’m a senior student within the house, and I’m trying my absolute best to sort him out. But he’s so headstrong and volatile that there’s little we can do. He doesn’t realize that the people around him—all of his housemates—are being hurt.
Which brings me to the main point of this op-ed: there has been a white mug in the the sink for over two weeks. It’s not mine, and it’s not Jack’s; so, bro, whose is it? Just clean this shit up. You’re tearing the house apart.
I’m not an unreasonable person but this madness has to stop. Jason: for the love of all that is holy and good, take care of your mug, bro. We know it’s yours.