Anita Shower

Let's get something out the the way real quick. Why yes, I am a horrible person! If you're not a regular, and feel as though you may have a problem with this; go ahead and just skip out now.

Everyone else, thanks for sticking around! From time to time, both on this site and in real life, I make reference to a blind roommate I had in college. Because it's pretty much always a hit, over the past decade I've told the story of my blind roommate more times than I can count. And now, armed with my newfound powers of wordsmithery, I think it's about time I shared the story with the rest of the world.

It was the summer of 1996, and I was anticipating my Freshman year of college. Like most resident Freshman I was eagerly awaiting my roommate assignment, my head filled with fantasies of a new Best Friend or partner in crime. Although more realistically I should have expected that fate and luck would continue to shit on me as it had done much of my first 18 years of life, which naturally turned out to be the case.

Anita was from Leet, West Virginia. The phone number given with her contact information led me to her Aunt's residence, who in turn gave me a number to contact Anita where she currently inhabited at an Institution for the Blind. I was horrified. When I told my parents, my father pitched a fit and threatened to call the school. Somehow that horrified even me more. Inevitably, since my nature to rebel against my parents overrode my not wanting to live with a blind girl, I decided to be Mother fucking Theresa and step up to the plate.

My first encounter with Anita was at 5:00AM, the day after all the other Freshman moved in. I was sleeping in nothing but a T-shirt and underwear when Anita, her redneck uncle, bleach blonde cousin (wearing jeans with cut-outs going the whole way up the leg) and the Resident Assistant came crashing in without notice. It was a dreadful harbinger of what the next four months were to bring.

Living with Anita was awful. She was for one thing, a nasty and unpleasant person. After a week I gave up trying to make conversation with her. From my observations, I'm also pretty sure she was kind of faking the whole "being blind" thing. She had even admitted to me once that she wasn't 100% blind! To watch her walk by herself, she would breezily swing her cane back and forth; when people approached she would hastily smack it around. I can't even tell you how many times people told me she hit them with her cane.

Blindness notwithstanding, by far the worst aspect of living with Anita was her deplorable hygiene, (or lack thereof.) Anita smelled. Anita smelled bad. Anita didn't brush her teeth, or wear deodorant. Anita didn't shower once the entire semester, hence the nickname. Sunday through Thursday nights Anita would take baths. In the dorm bathtub. Aside from the whole "stewing in your own filth" argument against taking baths; it should be noted that the dorm bathtub was also a shower combo. And for some reason, it was the only shower that didn't go scalding hot when someone flushed the toilet. So since it was being used as a public shower all day long, not only was Anita stewing in her own filth, but everyone elses, as well. And yes, even when it was "her time of the month." Let that sink in for a hot minute while your gag reflex spasms.

Anita also had hair down to butt. I wouldn't call it a style, per se... More like, 'God gave me this hair and I'm just gonna let nature fucking run with it. So after her bath every night, she would attempt to run a brush through the sopping ghastly mess, and immediately go to sleep. Let me tell you, the smell that cultivated from that damp hair overnight... If you've ever bathed a dog, imagine that smell only ripened to the Nth degree by being trapped in a tiny concrete dorm room. And since she didn't bathe at all on the weekends (suffice to say I went home every weekend that semester) when I'd arrive back to the room Sunday night after she'd been holed in there all weekend, opening that door was like unleashing the odor of something dead. I had to wash every article of my clothing after I moved out.

So after hearing all that, it probably won't surprise you that Anita's nutritional habits were equally as appalling. The three food groups were: pizza, Pepsi and candy. Despite being lazy and rather unintelligent, between her low income status and disability Anita was getting a totally free ride at the University. And although her room and board were fully covered, she spent all of her disposable grant money on junk food. To watch the girl eat Skittles was like Chinese Water Torture. Since her teeth were basically rotting out of her mouth, she ate them with her face contorting in pain as if she were chewing pieces of glass.

One day, out of what I believe was a combination of boredom and curiosity at the reckless abandon of a blind person who was so carelessly sloppy and unorganized, I went through some of Anita's belongings. I know. Horrible person. We've covered it already. In the bottom of her closet I found a toothbrush collecting dust, mint in package. In her desk, an unorganized mess of braille papers and the ID card pictured above. I don't know what it was, but something about that slightly confused, slack-jawed expression of a poor blind person getting their ID photo taken made me absolutely squee with uncontrollable giggles. I'd like to say what happened next came as a result of my adolescence, but let's face it; at 29 I'd probably do it again. Apprehending the ID card, I ran down the hall to a friends room, where we both squee'ed with laughter, then ran out to the lobby photocopier and proceeded to copy and enlarge the ID until it was the size of a sheet of paper. Over a decade later, I still hold onto this tattered little scrap of paper in remembrance of this one fond memory of my time with Anita.

Moral of the story? Not all blind people are stinky, and not all people from West Virginia are simpleminded yokels. (Or, I'm assuming, anyway. I don't believe I've ever met any other blind people and/or West Virginians.) But if you happen across someone who meets all four classifications? Do not even think about living with them.