April Blog Challenge: P is for Psycho Suzi Flashback!

 I felt like doing a flashback post for "P". For more Psycho Suzi stories, please click here. For quick reference, Suzi is a girl I lived with for one academic year in college - what I refer to as my "dark year". It was actually cathartic writing a series of posts about her, and it's great that they became entertaining instead of aggravating. And btw, if you read other Suzi posts, trust me - this shit really did happen. I'm not that imaginative.

I was spoiled by my first roommate experience. I have to admit. When it came to sharing things, we typically didn't mind. We tried to be considerate about it. Like if she and her boyfriend used the last of my butter, they'd buy me some next time they grocery shopped. Her boyfriend often asked me for stamps. He actually would give me exact change for each stamp he took. If I ate some of her crackers, I'd buy her a new box next time I was at the store. Often we'd ask before we took anything, but there times we'd have to say something after the fact.

During college, my first three years anyway, I lived close enough to campus that I walked. I enjoyed my walks to campus. Mornings were always nicest, in the summer it was before the heat of the day. In the winter, the crisp air was nice even if it did sting my eyes. In the winter I often walked with a travel mug of hot chocolate to help keep me warm. This was in addition to a sweater, a coat that goes to my knees, mittens, scarf, and a hat. No I didn't attend school in the Mid-West where temperatures can often be below zero. It's still California, but for those that live in the Northern part of the state, winter can get cold.

With my first roommate, I'd often "borrow" packets of hot chocolate if I ran out. I'd replace them. She didn't have to ask me to. I did it on my own, out of consideration. That and Karma's a bitch.

The winter I lived with Suzi, I, at one point, ran out of hot chocolate. I hated buying cups of hot chocolate at school, because even though they tasted awesome, it got expensive. Plus I would burn the taste buds off and the roof of my mouth with the first sip, so everything felt and tasted funny for the rest of the day. You can stop giggling at me now.

The morning I realized I was out of hot chocolate, she had already left for the day. I decided I'd take a packet. I had every intention of making sure I bought her more - I had to go to the store in a couple days anyway. It wasn't like she drank it near as much as me; I rarely saw her drink hot chocolate. She used the Nestle brand, with the marshmallows in it. I used, and still use, Swiss Miss. It's cheaper and you get more packets in a box.

I left her a note on the whiteboard in the kitchen that I took a packet, just in case she kept inventory. It wouldn't shock me. I made it up, and ran off to school. When I came home, my note was gone. She had written nothing in return. When we were home together she didn't say anything, either. I figured she didn't mind.

Next day, same thing. On the third day I finally made it to the grocery store. When I picked up a box of her Nestle hot chocolate, I discovered it was twice the amount mine was, and she got less than half of what I got packet-wise. I hadn't noticed a taste difference. And the marshmallows got in the way of the sippy-hole of my travel mug. I still bought the damn box, because I had every intention of giving her the whole box to repay what I took.

I got home, groceries in tow. Her mom was in town for a couple days. Again. While she came across as nice, the woman was a hoverer. Way more than the average mother. She was constantly worried if we kept the front door locked, as "some stranger from the street could just show up" since we lived right on the road. If she was so worried about her daughter's safety, why didn't she have Suzi move? In fact, we weren't in a bad part of Chico. That's what I didn't understand. Minus the random dumpster-diver, we had no trouble at all.

Sorry, I digress, again. Suzi and her mom are out for the time being. I start putting my groceries away, and I opened up a cupboard. What I find is rather upsetting.

It was a box of Suzi's hot chocolate, with torn pieces of binder paper taped all over it. In Suzi's mother's handwriting, it said the following, "Suzi's Hot Chocolate!", "Suzi Only!".

I was more than offended. I had left the bitch a note regarding the hot chocolate. And she has her mommy go out and buy her a new box because I took 3 packets?! WTF?

I grabbed the box I bought for her and nearly tossed it. Instead, I took 3 packets and rubber-banded them together with a sticky note that said: "Here are the packets to replace what I took. I had every intention of replacing them". I had intended on giving her the whole box. Oh hell no. Not now. I stuff the remaining three packets into my box of Swiss Miss that I had just bought. I stuff the box down into the bottom of the garbage - out of sight.

A few weeks later, it was Christmas. She had made us stockings to hang outside our bedroom doors and put presents in. I put shit in hers. Whoa. Not literal shit. Just shit. I bought stupid kids toys and she was in love with them. Second childhood my ass - she never left her first. What did I find in my stocking?

A fucking box of Nestle Hot Chocolate with Marshmallows.

I got bitch-slapped without being touched.

(Just so y'all know, I have never quite lived this post down. I still get teased by family if they offer me hot chocolate. I'll get, "Well, we only have that Nestle crap. . . " and a sly look. Just to be clear, I don't really care about the brand of hot chocolate. It's all good. In college, I was looking for cheap. Swiss Miss is cheap. Nestle was twice the price for half the amount of packets. That's what I thought was crap. lol)