In Reality w/ Uncle Bucket is an advice column by Andrew Bucket. If you need advice on anything in the world, email your dilemmas to [email protected] by Tuesday morning.
1. Mates and Roomates
Dear Uncle Bucket,
I just moved into a house of 7 people. So far we generally all get along, but one roommate in particular really grinds my gears. He doesn’t do dishes, he is a philistine, and he has terrible friends who like to talk about high-school fights. His huge weights are all over the basement, which is a common area.
I like a healthy lifestyle, a calm household, and a lot of personal space….for the most part. He is like a puppy with no sense of boundary.
What should I do? I love living here, minus this bro-dude.
Timid in Northwest, Yo.
Ah yes, the bro-dude.
Listen, you thought it was going to be the swingin’-vegan-sixties with your seven person Kolumbia Heights-Kombucha-Kommune or something right?
But in reality, you caught a normie in your net since you played it safe and decided to live in NW. So now it sounds like you’re the house crab-apple– a character who sucks just as much as the house meat-head. He probably doesn’t like you either, since he can’t eat your disgusting soy-sauge or whatever.
Common Daria, by now don’t you know what happens when 7 people live in a house and stop being polite?
But chin-up, my darling dullard-ess, here are some redeeming qualities of your bro that you may not even know:
1. He will physically defend you against any creepazoid assailant, I swear it–it’s in his biological framework. You will feel safe with him, alwayz and 4ever.
2. You get to feel smarter than him, while he gets to feel more fun than you. This mutual feeling of superiority is quite dynamic.
3. Regarding #2 on one occasion you will remove the bitch-hat and indulge him by splurging on a BBQ/beerfest, which makes him adore you.
Some other time, on a quiet Tuesday night, he is two Natural Lights deep and joins you in watching Cinema Paradiso— your favorite film.
During that scene he says “It really is amazing how moments seem more real when they resemble what we see in films…”
and he sighs with his tilted head against his fist, burping a little.
4. You notice he keeps his body lean and powerful, like Michael Phelps. You catch yourself imagining his bedroom Olympics. You need a good ruffling after all those impish hipsters you met at Mid City have barely conjured a tingle with their rigid humping, as they gasp asthmatically to the limp rhythms of Bon Iver.
5. The night before Thanksgiving, you are the only two left in the house. With no work the next day, and no friends in town, you are both bored as all-get-out.
He produces a bottle of Old Overholt from his room and impresses you with a delicious Old Fashion. He says “yeah, my father owns a bar. I always helped out when I could, so I learned how to make all the classic cocktails.”
He asks about your big life plans, and it shocks you because nobody has asked you that for a long time. He waits for your answer with genuine interest, and for the first time you notice his eyes are a gorgeous green.
6. After you date for three months, you decide that the group house situation has run its course, and you start looking for a condo in Dupont or Adams Morgan. You’ve gotten the IUD, so you bump privates everywhere…dressing rooms at Urban, parking garages, the portait gallery.
7. He leaves for a trip to Cancun with his friends. You declined to go because it sounded “dreadful” and though he insisted he stay back, you doubly insisted he go. You imagine wet-t-shirts, tequila hoses, and him with a bra on his head.
But he calls you every day because he misses waking up next to you.
8. Has it really been a year since you gave him head the night before Thanksgiving? He takes you to Inn at Little Washington. Over dessert, the big announcement. He thinks you should move to New York together.
9. Your second year of grad school has begun. The Dc-New York thing is business as usual. Freaky skyping during the week, and that long ass train ride on Friday.
10. Ahhh yes, single again. How strange it feels. You look back on it all and have no regrets. It was the most meaningful relationship you’ve ever had, and you will measure every future man against the Bro you once hated.
and thats your roomate,
2. Birthday Bitch
Dear Uncle Bucket,
My friend’s birthday is this weekend and there is a big party for her in New York on Saturday. I really don’t feel like making the trip, and I also want to hang out with a new boy.
Am I a bitch?
Boys Over Lame Trains
Among some female circles I have picked up on this strange anxiety over women missing each others birthday parties.
I have also noticed that there is this feeling of relief if a woman misses the birthday party, but later finds out that nobody went.
But if she finds out that everyone was there, then the situation requires either a big excuse like “my father got dehydration at a Santana show and I had to bring him my Scrubs season 2,”
or the temporary insanity defense, via a really confessional state-of-the-union address about how she is fed up with these career-obsessed, emotional-glaciers in DC and she might need to go Costa Rica and teach scuba for a while.
It is nice to have a special day is the thing, and it seems women have developed an understanding with each other that no matter what, your girls will be there on your birthday.
For one year in middle school I was pretty popular, I’m not kidding I was basically a Stussy clad Nick Cannon, and I got invited to like 20 b-days that year.
After like 10 b-day weekends in a row, my parents got a little tired of buying things for me to bring as a present. Finally they said
“listen we are not a present factory!”
(moms and dads love saying they aren’t a factory…it doesn’t matter what the factory makes, they are NOT that kind of factory)
Point is, in reality, you cannot be expected to go to every girl’s birthday party. You shouldn’t tell her you ditched it to hang out with a new crush, but use your head, dum dum.
It’s in NYC right?
1. Bus sold out before you got paid.
2. Missed your bus.
3. Can’t afford it.
4. Fuck you, a b-day in new york? I am not a money factory.
Furthermore, here are some things about birthdays:
1. they are like assholes, everybody has one and they are all 90’s themed.
2. they happen every god damn year. here are the important ones: 21, 30, 40, and 50. Otherwise stop crying, start buying, or start dying.
3. A hand made card is fine. If your friend scoffs, she is a 90’s themed asshole.
hang with the boy,
Andrew Bucket is a regular contributor at BYT, and recently learned that the Petworth library has a pretty great DVD selection.
send your problems to [email protected], and he will keep you anonymous–unless you are some kind of sexual predator. Or the actual predator: